I made it.

The light in my life has absolutely no comparison to the darkness. The darkness is only temporary. The darkness will not take me down. It is not permanent. My darkness is often solved by simply rising, and leaving the house.

Because on the outside I see beauty in so much. I can step outside my own head and really enjoy the world.

Often I forget about how lucky I am. Because the often temporary state I find myself in can feel so consuming, but it’s not. I am no longer addicted to drugs or alcohol. I am stable. I am functioning. I am no longer suffering in a hopeless state of mind, because there is so much beauty in the world outside that I can actually feel.

Sometimes I live in darkness but maybe I just think it’s darkness. Maybe it’s just the calm but I have never experienced it before – so I have no idea what to call it. 

There is so much that is new to me in this life. Everything is so much different than before. I feel a million miles away from the person I was – and yet I often feel the weight of the past so heavy on my chest.

So when I put on my shoes and I step outside the door it all sort of disappears soon after. 

If my current problems are simply solved by going outside, than I have it pretty good right now.

My circles are no longer actual circles, but more like me just living in my own mess of a head. I don’t have to live to feed my addiction, so that I can live to feed my addiction. 

I have purpose in life, and maybe that’s what I need to start telling myself every single morning. I thought 2017 was my year. But today I know that 2018 is going to be even better, because I don’t give myself enough credit. I am leaps and bounds. I am a brave woman. I am strong. I have courage. I will not live in fear. I may have moments of fear, but I cannot let myself sit in it. 

This is my life. I made it to where I am today, and if I can make it here I can make it anywhere. 

Often I feel like I am living in a video game and I found the magic scroll that gives me all the points and bonus rounds. I didn’t come from the bottom, but somehow I ended up there and now I’m here, soaring through the sky.

I made it.

Rest.

I just feel so drained. My body feels like it’s going through withdrawl and I keep having to remind myself to be gentle, as I am technically going through withdrawl from Wellbutrin. I think it’s been about 5 days since I stopped taking it completely and it’s been on and off.

Sleep feels like it’s the only thing that feels right, but at the same time it’s pulling me down. How can a person sleep as much as I do? I keep wanting to sneak off to bed and just close my eyes just for a few minutes. I just need a few winks. 

I can’t afford to be in this funk anymore. School starts and my practicum starts next week. I need to get myself moving forward. But I am just so drained.

There is so much good happening in my life, how can I feel so dark? 

People just assume that when good things are going on in my life, that I should be happy. That everything should be amazing on the inside and the outside, but often thats not the case. I am thriving, I am the woman I always dreamed of being – but some days are still so dark.

Some days are so painful but the difference between now and then is that now I don’t have to use or drink to go through these motions of life. Now I sit in the darkness for as long as it needs me, and I fight my way out of it when it’s time to come back.

Because there is only a specific alloted time allowance for this darkness to take space in my life today. I have much to do.

But for the next few hours I think I will sit in the darkness and just allowed myself to take the time to rest.

Christmas time is hard.

Christmas time has been hard for me since 2002. Because we lost my brother and lost my daughter in almost one fell swoop. I feel like I shouldn’t talk about it, because it hurts too much. It hurts everyone who hears about it. But there is always been an emptiness inside of me during this time of year.

My medication change is also throwing me for a loop. I can’t stop sleeping.  I also woke up to other another UTI on the 23rd so I have been on 800mg of medication for that and it’s just tearing me apart inside. I am just so exhausted. 

Maybe the exhaustion is a combination of all the things happening to me right now. But it’s just so dark inside of my head. I feel like I am constantly being punished for who I was. I don’t know if my daughter doesn’t want to talk to me, because I have left two messages in the past week or so. I feel so empty.

They told me I needed to act like an adult when I tried to contact her outside of them, and I felt like I understood what they said. Because they are her guardians and parents now, but I will always be her Mom. I brought her into this world, and somehow I am forever being punished for it. I understand she’s a teenager and she’s going through shit, but how am I going to make that worse?

I am so confused. People keep telling me what a phenomenal human being I have become, and at the same time I am only allowed to see my daughter once a year. I am only allow to communicate with her during that visit. I send her gifts for her birthday and Christmas which are basically about a month apart. It’s like I am only allowed to think about her for a month long period in the year. 

I feel like a strong role model and at the same time I feel like the opposite. How does that even work?

And I have no idea if it’s her that doesn’t want a relationship with me, or them that doesn’t want her to have one. But this is just killing me. Like the thoughts that poison my mind are so harmful. 

And I know I shouldn’t feel like this if I am spiritually well. I should accept it and move on and hope one day to have a relationship with my daughter. But right now there is a huge hole in my heart and it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong still. 

I miss trying to live in the present but around this time of year, it’s the last place I want to be.

Me and them.

I feel like I don’t know who I am, because the label of what I am keeps changing.

I went and saw my counsellor today and it was the second time she spoke to me about dissassociative identity disorder. Last time was near the end of our session. She had been asking me leading questions that I knew right where she was taking me. Did I have any gaps in time. Did I ever finds notes in my handwriting that I couldn’t remember writing. No, no and no. Just no. Then when I got home I googled what dissassociative identity disorder actually is. It’s dissassociative identity disorder. Which is basically multiple personality disorder. I laughed at the thought. But when I thought more about the way that I behave, it make sense. Sometimes I feel like I am actually different people. Like %100. But it couldn’t be possible because I don’t have lapses in time. I remember everything, at least I think I do. 

But today when I went back, I have her an update on my appointment with my psychiatrist. I told her that she doesn’t really seem to think that I am bipolar at all, or that I have anxiety. She thought I had borderline personality disorder. 

My counsellor said she understood how my psychiatrist might have thought that, but that there was no way. We went over the things associated with borderline personality disorder and they don’t fit. 

We went back and revisited dissassociative identity disorder and she told me that it exists on a spectrum. Some may just have minor dissassociative states, but some may have extreme states where the individual personalities come to protect the person and completely take over. She told me she was very familiar with this disorder and that she recognizes it in me. 

I think back to everytime that I felt like the only way to explain it was to call it a high, or a crash. Because I was told I was bipolar. So to me that’s what they were. But I only looked at it as though I became someone else. I associated my ups and downs with being a different person, one that I cannot control. But now that I look back, they were not just highs and lows. They were on the same level as me, but so different than me. Like I am a different age when I have my high and low episodes.

It makes sense but I don’t like it. What am I? 

I have spent the past few years finally accepting the idea that I am bipolar, when now it may not even be the correct. 

I called my mum afterwards and explained to her what had just transpired. I couldn’t quite grasp who I was anymore. Like WHO AM I NOW? 

To which she replied You are Lesandra. But that does that entail? Who am I really? What is wrong with me?

This whole me and her thing that I often speak of is starting to feel more real right now. Only it’s less of that, and more like me and them.

Feeling brave.

I was a bit hesitant about facing the day, especially after deciding this morning to start the process of stopping Wellbutrin to switch my medication, sooner than later.

It was then brought to my attention that completely stopping my Wellbutrin could actually lead to seizures, so I have cut my pill and only taken a third of it. This makes sense for what they mean by when you taper down, but why didn’t the pharmacist recommend this to me? Because I am going to have to stop taking the Wellbutrin at some point and if there is nothing for me to taper off of, then what am I supposed to do?

I got called into work and after sitting here for the first half an hour, I felt so strange. Like I should be at home, instead of here. That I should be resting. I feel like with medication the only thing to do is rest, but it really is the exact opposite. 

When I was in the hospital in April of 2015, I started taking Wellbutrin and a few other medications that I am not on anymore. I was on the road to wellness for my mental health and I had no idea how to behave. Like I would try to sit in bed and get rest because I felt like that was what was needed. But I would get restless and find myself doing laps around the psych ward. 

Sometimes my illness tricks me and tells me to stay in bed, and then sometimes my wellness tells me thats the path back to darkness and I should get moving.

Sometimes I just don’t know what to think. So I write, and usually something has worked itself out by the end of the conversation. 

I was asked last week about doing an interview for an article in my hometown newspaper. I didn’t respond right away because I was obviously scared. When I finally did it was by the seat of my pants that I gained the courage. We talked briefly and I sent him my book via email. 

I had sent a few messages afterwards, and there was no response. I thought I had been ghosted. I was convinced he read parts of the book and thought it was garbage. I tricked myself into hating myself. I felt so low, because I didn’t know. I hate the unknown. It leads me to dark places.

And then today I got a message back from him, to call the office to talk. But I got called into work, so the interview happened in between phone calls for people wanting to order chinese food. I feel good about it. I feel happy. 

Tonight I am feeling really brave.

Normalcy.

Today I am 32 months sober and clean. Leaps and bounds. I have come leaps and bounds from the person I was trapped being.

I’m on day three of my new medication and this morning had to make the decision to stop taking my old medication all together. I know this isn’t the recommended method but I had no way of even tapering my medication because I am already at the lowest dosage of Wellbutrin. I would rather deal with the side effects now, than have to deal with them while I am in my first week back at school. Not just back at school, but I also start my practicum that same week, and I will be in the mental health field.

I can’t believe this. I can’t believe where I am in life right now. 

I am sitting in my comfy bed at home, making real adult decisions. I am taking control of my mental health by making choices for myself, instead of being scared of facing a rough patch. I have been scared of switching medications since I started Wellbutrin because it was working so well for me, and I ignored the side effects. It wasn’t just causing my bladder to vibrate constantly, it was also causing mania. But I had to balance the good and the bad and the good things were just so good that I suffered. But I won’t do that anymore. Because I am not afraid anymore to try different options that may work better for me.

Last year this time I would have freaked out at the suggestion of a medication change. In fact I think I did. And the only way it would be possible, in my mind, was if I was hospitalized during the change. 

I think the greatest part about this recovery of myself is the fact that my thoughts and ideas that often are so concrete in my mind, have the ability to change. It’s like one day I just wake up and something that I felt so strongly against even trying or accepting into my life has finally lowered it’s guard. I become willing to try something new and different and I am a better person for it.

I feel strange right now, my mind feels different and I know that’s just the initial weirdness of medication. I hope this works out for me, because I have alot of good stuff happening for me right now and I deserve to live my life with a balanced mind. Just as everyone else does. We all deserve to feel some sense of normalcy to our chaos.

Happiness.

The worst part about starting new medication is the first few weeks. It doesn’t matter how low the dosage, it makes me feel fucked up. Like when I talk I don’t feel like I’m even making sense. I feel like there is gaps in time. I am aware of every single thing I do from the clenching of my teeth, to the focusing of my eyes. I can feel my body move like I haven’t for such a long time.

My head feels like it’s full of metal. Metalhead I used to call the feeling when I dropped acid in high school. That same feeling followed me whenever I would try to start on any antidepressants I would associate it with acid and I would stop taking them.

I need to get away from associating things with drugs. I just feel like there was so much saturation of drugs in my life that it’s hard to not associate so many things with some form of substance from my past.

I am sitting in the dark in my bedroom. I have been trying to nap for the last 2 hours but I have had no success in even putting my phone down.

I woke up at 7:30 this morning so I could head out to Nightshift Ministries and help with setting up the Christmas dinner for our street friends. The tables are all set up in a long row, like a family would have at Christmas. It makes my heart feels so warm thinking about how amazing tonight is going to be. 

It has been months since I have been able to volunteer at Nightshift and I really miss it. I had been going every Tuesday night for 9 months. We would do the art class before the dinner service, and I felt at home with the group of people that would regularly come and join our class. We would socialize and just enjoy the company of each other. Being busy with school and work has made it nearly impossible for me to continuing going, but I hope that changes in the new year. Volunteering is such an amazing feeling, so much that it doesn’t feel like volunteering. It just feels like it’s somewhere that I want to be that I can be of service to those who need it most.

I need to spend more time outside of my own head, helping others. That is where happiness is.

Side effects.

I felt like I was two very distinct people during my first appointment with my new psychiatrist this afternoon. I don’t know how it happens but it’s like something changes in me. Not even inward, mostly in my outward self. I react to something that’s said and my tone changes. Everything changes.

I felt myself judging. Then I felt relaxed. Judging. Don’t you know who I am? Why are you asking me why my doctor thought I suffered from anxiety at the age of 14? I don’t remember most of it. Why are you asking why we think I am bipolar? Because you say it’s hard to diagnose that when someone is on drugs. Yes I am aware. What came first, the chicken or the egg?

So what brings you here today? 

And I have no idea how to answer that. But I do as I stumble over words. The entire time my bladder is vibrating. But I just went to the washroom. Not this again. It’s always something. 

So I told her what I have been wanting to say to a doctor for so long. I can’t handle the side effect of Wellbutrin. Ever since I started taking it in April of 2015, I have suffered from overactive bladder. Maybe a year ago I finally did something about it. I didn’t switch from the Wellbutrin to something else, because I was feeling balanced. So I was prescribed a medication that would stop my bladder from feeling like it was constantly shaking. Awesome. It works, sometimes too well. I would wake up in the morning and could feel my bladder was full, but I couldn’t quite empty it. Also it became unaffordable having to pay out of pocket every month. So I only take it every 4 or so days now. 

I hate it. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t take medication to treat a side effect from medication. But I have been too scared to say anything because I don’t want to have to go through with the withdrawal and the starting of a new medication.

But it’s time. Today I have started the process of saying goodbye to Wellbutrin, and hello to Celexa. I have no idea how it’s going to make me feel. I am scared. I am supposed to take both in the morning for two weeks, and then stopped taking Wellbutrin, and continue on with this. The pharmacist warned me of the withdrawl symptoms that might happen, and that would definitely happen if I just stopped taking Wellbutrin all together.

He also warned me that it may cause mania, which I hope isn’t too bad. I really should have done this in the summertime when there was more time before school started, but I was too scared.

She also at the end of the session said that I quite possibly also have borderline personality disorder. Which many different doctors have said. They keep saying this but nobody is diagnosing me with it. They just keep talking in circles. She said that it’s not like diagnosing a broken arm. The lines in this case are very fuzzy.

I don’t know what this even means for me, but I hope I am making the right decision here. 

New psychiatrist.

Going to meet a new psychiatrist today. I know how things always go with new doctors, or anyone who is on the other side of the desk.

I sort of shut down. Something inside of me goes into hiding. It’s like I turn into a small child. Retreating into the corner. I get so defensive. I act out. It’s like the old drug addicted and scared me just comes right to the surface.

My throat hurts because I think I am coming down with a cold. It’s working its way into my ears and I would rather stay under the protection of these walls than have to go tell a new person about me. I am glad that my family doctor has sent me with a paper that has my diagnosis and my mental health plan, and history listed. 

It would make more sense if the files were all shared between the various people who have seen me over the years. Why is there not a central database where they can all just log onto and have a brief summary of my history?

I think that would help not only me, but also other people. Sometimes if I am in a horrible state of mind, I don’t want to talk about my history. How is a doctor to know how serious things are if they don’t have access to this information? Sometimes it’s just awful to have to constantly repeat myself.

I honestly am not even sure why I am going to see a psychiatrist. People kept asking me when the last time I saw mine was, and I could only reply with that I didn’t even have one. The last person I saw was when I was in hospital for two weeks back in April of 2015. I know that I need to stay on top of these things but isn’t the sole purpose of a psychiatrist to prescribe medications? 

I am pretty sure I don’t need anymore of those. I hope I can keep my composure today.

Radio silence.

I was dropping minorly on the charts for my book, then I went right back up to second and first place. It went up and down a few times for the 6 days but as of yesterday night I started dropping like I never even existed.

A few people have received their books, and maybe a few more that I don’t know of. More will be receiving them this week. I feel scared. I feel sick. It’s not just a book. It was my diary. It was my actual diary and it’s not my story that I am afraid to be judged on. I can’t get this nonsense out of my head. I knew it would be hard, to wait. I knew it would be hard to have people not like it. To be judged. But this is awful. 

I don’t want to get out of bed. I woke up to drink my breakfast shake and I went back to bed. Only to stay warm and then when my cat sprawled her body across the side of mine I decided it was better to stay in bed.

I have had a few books in my time that didn’t ‘do it for me’ in the first few pages, so I didn’t read any futhur. I had come to my conclusion that I wouldn’t like the book. I feel like that’s what’s happening with my book right now.

I asked my boyfriend why he hadn’t read it yet. He told me that I told him not to read it. I don’t remember that, but maybe I did. Maybe it’s too much for him.

But he’s been reading little bits of it lately. I don’t understand why he would rather play a video game on his phone, than support me and read my book. 

“Because reading an 18 year olds diary does nothing for me.” 

Well that is only the beginning. It changes. I change.

This set a rage on fire inside of me. Why wouldn’t anyone that has a child want to read an 18 year olds diary? I was not unique in the thoughts, feelings, desires, inadequacies that I felt growing up. Those things didn’t disappear when I turned 19 or even 20. They were always there, and they still are here. They are just less than they were because I have finally grown.

He doesn’t understand how people could become addicted to drugs, because he never has been. He is not an addict, and I always have been. Maybe that’s why the story doesn’t make sense to him, and it doesn’t appeal to him. Because he doesn’t feel any familiarity in the things I am talking about. The feelings. So many feelings.

Maybe this book isn’t for everyone, but I hope it does reach the people that it is for. The universe led me to this path and right where I am standing right now – I feel like I don’t understand why.

Because all I am hearing is radio silence.