My crazy has helped to create me. A writer’s journey to bipolar.
Friends,
I have a confession. Not really a confession but something that has recently happened to me after years of struggle.

I was diagnosed with bipolar 2.
Before you send prayers and hugs…I am fine. Years of thinking I was crazy have finally paid off- it’s not all in my head. Well. It is in my head. But there is nothing wrong with it. I am not broken; just not firing correctly.
What a relief!
Being a writer, I was concerned that taking medication could affect my imagination and ability to think outside the box. That is a dangerous place to be if you just published your first book and are working on your second. I need my imagination and random thoughts! The voices that helped me write book one, will they be able to help me write book 2?
So, accepting the meds that would help me temper my temper and combat the crazy was a struggle.
I started the meds this week. I am only on day 5, but there have been a few noticeable changes.
My head is quiet.
Usually, throughout the day, I jump all over the place. I have 15 tabs open on my computer, and I am struggling to finish one project. I need to stay relevant on social media. I need to create original content. I want to make sure I support my fellow authors, friends, and family. I have to write the next blog and move forward with my business.
I also need to be productive at my full-time job.
But I need to write book 2. Book 2 is evading me. The characters are all over the place. I need to build a timeline and a vision board. But the floors need to be cleaned. I haven’t folded the clothes that I washed last weekend yet. I haven’t planned dinner for the week. I have to go to the grocery store. I hate the grocery store!

Yet those thoughts are not so loud now. I can’t explain internal silence coherently. It’s almost like moving in slow motion. I am not used to it yet. Before, 24 hours felt like 12 hours to me. Now it feels like a total 24 hours. Does that even make sense?
Which got me thinking. One of the hardest things about this world is that it is an oxymoron. In society, it is okay to have a mental disorder, but it is not okay to behave like you have a mental disorder. Be crazy, but please don’t be crazy in public. Speak your mind, but don’t offend anyone. Be true to yourself, but don’t go against mainstream thinking. Be eccentric, but don’t be too loud.
I think that the one thing that makes this next journey worth it for me is that I finally feel not so alone. I didn’t want to share my crazy with anyone, so I locked it up and put it on a shelf high in my mental closet. I didn’t want to be judged or looked at differently.
But now, the pressure to be a perfectionist is not so heavy.
I am sure that there will still be challenging days or weeks. But maybe they won’t be so extreme anymore. I am looking forward to letting go of anger and sadness and enjoying the present. I am also looking forward to knowing that I am okay.
My crazy doesn’t define me; it has helped mold me into my own version of Mary Poppins-practically perfect in every way.

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