When you start to slip again

Recently I’ve been really struggling to keep the highs and lows under control. I’ve been cycling again. I even freaked out on my fiance because I said I was going to skip my meds that night so I didn’t have to adjust what time I took them the next day while he was telling me that I need to take them. Now, I’m aware that he was in the right and just looking out for me, I can’t remember what all I said that night while screaming at him but I know he almost left me because of it. I hate this illness, I hate when I start slipping up. I wish I was “normal,” however, I know if that was the case I wouldn’t be able to speak up and help others this way.
So, I did what I had to, I met with my psychiatrist and adjusted some medication, even though I hate it, and made sure that I have an appointment soon with my therapist. I just wish that these things weren’t necessary for me to live a, mostly, stable life. It sucks. It’s hard work, despite what some might think. But it’s what those of us with a mental illness have to do to survive in this world.
To those of you who are slipping up, make sure you take care of yourself. Make sure you do what you need to. Do everything you can to get back to where you need to be. It will be worth it in the end.
You got this🙂


…about not posting much lately. Work has been crazy. I’m trying to train people, do all the orders, write things off so the store gets credit for them, I’m spending hours at home trying to do the schedule then find out the day I’m supposed to submit the schedule that they’re giving me a manager to help me out so I have to completely redo the schedule, and so on. Basically, life has been busy and crazy, I even had a mental breakdown the other night while in an argument with my fiancee.

Due to all of these things I haven’t had much time to post anything. As I’m pretty sure I mentioned in another post, if you have a mental illness then management probably isn’t for you.

Tigger, Eeyore, and Bipolar Disorder

I love this because it’s so true.

I have type 2 bipolar disorder with rapid cycling and mixed features. Due to the rapid cycling and, when I was first diagnosed, the raging teenage hormones that already make a teen moody, I could spend an hour in a manic state then go into a depressive one. It’s kind of really scary. When I went to bed (when I slept) I really did wonder, in my eyes at the time, “who” I was going to be when I woke up the next day.

It’s a horrible feeling that no one should have deal with. But not knowing if it’s going to be Tigger or Eeyore making the decisions for you on any given day is just one of the many realities of living with bipolar disorder.


I’d just like to start this off by saying this post talks about my religious beliefs and I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. I would also like to make sure you’re aware that I won’t judge anyone for their beliefs, whether you’re Buddhist, Muslim, any form of atheism, and so on, because no matter what you’re still a person and entitled to your own belief system. But that’s not the reason for this post, so here it goes.

Have you ever had an “Ah-ha” moment, where something just seems to click and certain things start making sense? Last Sunday I had one of those moments.

I was at church and something my preacher said made me recognize it was when I was at my worst, when I thought the God I was raised to believe in me had abandoned me, that He was carrying me through the hell I was living in. I used to write every night (all night) and for a while, when things began to get really bad, I even wrote down my prayers. I would beg God to help me, to help me get better, to take away all of the pain and suffering I was going through and save me from my mind, or save me from me. When things seemed to continually get worse I started losing my faith because why would this great and powerful God allow one of the children He’s supposed to love go through so much pain? Despite this I still held onto Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Eventually, when I thought I couldn’t go on any longer, when I was ready to end it all, my psychiatrist determined that I had bipolar disorder, called me on my bullshit, and found a combination of medications that kept me mostly stable. He also found an amazing therapist who I clicked with immediately. With their helped I defied all odds. I somehow managed to graduate high school, hold down a job, and, even though I have to go part time to be successful, I’m going to college and for the most part I’m doing well at it despite working full time and dealing with my mental illnesses.

When I was at church that Sunday it hit me that even though my prayers weren’t answered the way I expected or wanted, they were still answered. He is the reason I found the perfect people to help me, He is the reason I was able to survive, He carried me through and gave me strength when I was at my weakest. All that time that I thought He wasn’t there or that He didn’t care it was Him who kept me alive.

I love the Footprints poem and feel as though it really relates to what I went through.

“The Lord replied, ‘My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.'”


Whether you’re a recovering drug addict or alcoholic. Whether you’re recovering from self-harm or an eating disorder. There are countless things that someone could be recovering from but no matter what it is it is still something that at one point controlled our lives. Despite what some might think, this even includes those who have a serious mental illness because that too controlled that individuals life at one point and they still fight it everyday.

For me, it was whatever I could find to either calm the anxiety make me feel happy. My biggest struggles came from self-harm and food issues, for many reasons. But then I’m also dealing with “recovery” from bipolar disorder. I have to keep an eye on my moods every day, take meds to keep them as regulated as possible, there is no day off from this. The more my moods fluctuate the greater my desire to turn to self-harm gets. As I said, it’s a daily battle.

No matter your addiction, mental health condition, or you struggles, you don’t get a day off. It takes a lot of work, recovering and avoiding relapse, but it’s so worth it. Being able to truly live and enjoy life makes the daily battles worth it.

Violence and Mental Illness

Whenever there are mass shootings, or anything related to violence that makes its way into the media they automatically start saying that person must have a mental illness. They always love to blame those who they can’t understand. If you have a mental illness you must be “crazy” or “violent.”

The thing is only 3-5% of all violent acts are commited by someone with a serious mental. Those of us with a mental illness are actually 12 times more likely to be the victims of violence than the general public (AMHCA, Gun Violence and Mental Illness, https://www.amhca.org/blogs/joel-miller/2017/10/03/).

Just something to think about when you want to accuse us of being violent individuals…

Learning to Love Yourself

When you’re living with a mental illness, or even dealing with an addiction, a huge part of the healing process is learning to love yourself.

Between having bipolar disorder, anxiety disorders, and dealing with the situation with my stepfather at the time (I talked about this in a previous post), I was angry at myself because I couldn’t help my mom and couldn’t control my mind/emotions. This lead to me taking all of that out on my body. When I was about 16 I brought the idea of this tattoo to my therapist. When she asked me why I wanted it I told her it was because the only reason I hadn’t ended my life yet was because of the people in my family who love me. She responded with a question I never expected to hear, “you know they love you, but can you feel it?” She then explained that I couldn’t really feel that love because I didn’t really love me. I didn’t view myself as being even remotely deserving of love because, in all honesty, I hated myself. So she and I came to the agreement that I wouldn’t get this tattoo until the meaning changed to “I can love myself and because of that I can feel that I am loved.”

It wasn’t an easy journey. I had to first learn to respect myself (including standing up for myself when being wronged, recognizing that my needs and thoughts are important) then came liking myself and then finally loving myself. These were the steps because in order to love yourself you need be able to respect and like yourself first. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t always like myself but I can always love myself. I’d be lying if I said I don’t still struggle with all of it, but I just have to keep reminding myself that I can love myself.

When I was 19 (about a year after becoming clean from self-harm) I finally got the tattoo and when the tattoo artist gave me a confused look when I said I wanted it to face me, I explained to him that the tattoo is a message for me and not for everybody else. I don’t mean this negatively towards anyone else I just meant that the tattoo had a special meaning, or message, for me.

It’s a constant reminder that because I can love me I can be loved by others. As I said, it’s a long and very difficult journey, but it is possible. Hopefully those of you who don’t like, or hate, yourselves can make it through that journey because whether you believe it or not, you deserve to be able to love you.

Fear Is a Liar

When he told you you’re not good enough
When he told you you’re not right
When he told you you’re not strong enough
To put up a good fight
When he told you you’re not worthy
When he told you you’re not loved
When he told you you’re not beautiful
That you’ll never be enough
Fear, he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
‘Cause fear he is a liar

When he told you were troubled
You’ll forever be alone
When he told you you should run away
You’ll never find a home
When he told you you were dirty
And you should be ashamed
When he told you you could be the one
That grace could never change

-Fear Is a Liar by Zach Williams

There are certain that you’ll come across that touch you, that seem to completely understand things that you’ve been going, or have gone, through. This is one of those songs for me. Many of the things that were mentioned had been said to me when I was younger. I came to fear that they were true and at some point believed they were.

I heard this song at church today and wanted to share it with you. The first time I listened to it the song brought tears to my eyes because it really hit home. Whether you’re religious or not this song is important for those who have been the victim of these words. The negative things others have told you about yourself are lies, they are scary and can change the way you view yourself.

No matter what you’ve been told you are not worthless. You are loved. You are strong. You are good enough.

You deserve happiness, so remember, fear is a liar.


Yesterday was rough.

As the assistant manager at the convenient store I work at Saturdays are by far the most stressful day of the week. Every Saturday we have a large milk/tea order and a large grocery/cigarette/other tobacco product order, all of which fall on me to put away before I leave, while . To make yesterday easier I scheduled it so that it was myself and someone else at 6am and then I had a second person come in at 9am. Instead the person who was supposed to come in at 6 didn’t show and wouldn’t even answer their phone. I tried to call everyone I could but no one would respond.

I ended up alone for those 3 hours and it was CRAZY busy. When the employee scheduled for the 9am shift came in and told me that the one scheduled to come in at 6 texted him and told him that he couldn’t work any of his shift I flipped out. My response was: “No shit! I figured that out 3 hours ago when he wouldn’t answer his phone.” I went on about how no one would answer and come in (or come in early) to help me. After I finally calmed down I felt horrible for flipping out on him. But after I was done freaking out I started crying and had a lovely panic attack in front of both him and a customer. It was awesome.

I hate showing that side of me but sometimes I can’t fully control when it will happen. Basically, I’m not always okay and it sucks to admit it, but it’s true. If anyone with a mental illness tries to tell you they’re always okay and don’t still struggle at times they’re probably lying.

Sorry, this was primarily to rant and admit that I still have to deal with some parts of my mental illness.

Rock Bottom

Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

-J.K. Rowling

Those with a mental illness, including addictions, probably understand this. Many times you have to hit rock bottom before you’re able to recognize that you need help, that you’re not as okay as you keep telling yourself and others that you are. When you reach this place you have two options: let it consume you and not ask for help before it’s too late or learn to build yourself back up and become the person you want to be, the healthier and happier person you can be. I’m not saying that everyone hits rock bottom before they get to this point but many people do.

I had to hit rock bottom before finally listening to my therapist and psychiatrist, before then I was seeing them to make my mom happy not because I wanted to get better for me. Like J.K. Rowling stated, it became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.

Sometimes you have to sink before you can swim.