Today was supposed to be the first day of my new, improved life. I made an appointment to see a therapist about helping me develop coping mechanisms toward the stress in my life. What I got was a therapist who spewed words at me like yoga, massage, acupuncture and journaling. Okay, lady, I’ve heard those all before! I need something that I can do internally to help my problem. Self help in a little bottle would be nice, but I’m not expecting miracles here. I just want good internal self talk that will point me in the direction of bipolar recovery.

I couldn’t get to sleep last night. My mind was too full. I’m planning to go back to school and there is so much to do. There’s the financial aspect, there’s what I’m going to do with the girls, there’s applications and FAFSA’s to fill out. My biggest worry, though, is whether or not I can do it. Am I capable enough to go back to school and be successful despite my bipolar? Is it possible to even be making these plans not knowing if my bipolar disorder is going to be under control enough to do it? I’m not getting any younger. If I want to enter the work force and become a mental health advocate, I need to do it soon or I’ll regret it.

I haven’t felt like the best bipolar me in over two weeks. The Lithium finally kicked in and I was sick. I was nauseous after my night time meal and so drowsy during the day that I could barely keep my eyes open. I let it continue for two weeks. I thought that I just had to get used to it. Fortunately, I got tired of it and decided to do a little research. I found some information on Lithium and nausea that suggested that I split up my dosage into morning and night instead of just dosing at night. The results were amazing. I started to become the best bipolar me.

My father was a beautiful man, but he passed away this past August. I thought then that I was coping with his death by not trying to think too much about it and carry on with my life. Instead, it triggered a bipolar depression that lasted from then until now. I didn’t expect to have to deal with his death this past year. I expected him to be sick, but I always thought that I had more time with him.

What do you say to taking chances? Starting fresh. Being you, but better. Would you take a chance to live the life you've always dreamed of? Would you do anything to trash your bipolar life and evolve into an improved you? Jump off the edge even if you're afraid. You're worth it.

Bipolar beat me. Yesterday was a bad day. I haven't had it bad like this in a while. It stemmed from my finances or lack thereof. This time of year is always difficult for us, paying off Christmas. Next Christmas we're going to have a savings. No credit cards. But, there is still the problem of this year.

At this past appointment, my psychiatric nurse offered to add another 300 mg of Lithium to my bipolar medication cocktail. She wrote me out a prescription and I accepted it tentatively. Do I want to be more medicated? Do I want the side effect of shakes to return? What am I doing?

Do you ever get so angry that you want to spit? I'm talking about the kind of anger that crawls up inside of you and squats, like it's never going to leave. The kind of anger that makes you slam doors and snarl tersely at your family when they ask you questions, has hit me today and I need to make it leave. I want it gone, but the internal struggle against my bipolar triggers is a battle to the finish. My chest is tightly constricted and I find myself wanting to be in a dark room.

My kids are taking a bath. The sound of gurgling water fills our little apartment. The dishwasher hums loudly. My youngest is crying. Today, everything feels like it's crowding in on my psyche. I applied my positive thinking approach until the moment that I screamed for my youngest child to get into bed for her nap and then I collapsed.

I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 on October 6, 2006. I remember the date like it’s my birthday. It’s the day my whole world collapsed and I became a person I didn’t recognize. I was branded, disgraced and humiliated (Living With Mental Illness and Self-Stigma). It was I who took in the online questionnaire to my psychiatrist, hoping that I was wrong.