Autoimmune
Oh What a Difference
11.28.18 blog entry ~ Oh What a Difference
Twenty-four hours ago I thought I would get nothing accomplished today and just prayed I would be able to get out of bed this morning. I was dealing with depression, anxiety and paranoia was trying to set up shop in my mind. Today, a totally different person. This version got things done, got above and beyond bonus type stuff done and feels well.
With Bipolar, I always know what goes up must come down and all that jazz. I know 24 hours can make all the difference, and oh, what a difference…problem being that it cuts both ways.
I get done what I can on the good days and take the win.
Take care of yourselves and each other. ✌💛🙏💙
(Photo credit: Google images Health Magazine)
Even Through Mud
I survived. I thrive. If I stumble, I take two more steps. If I fall from a blow, I get back up. Every time. 💪🖤✌
Tile & Thoughts by @jenm_curry 2018
Honest- Know That Upfront
Honesty, letting you know up front that’s what you’re about to read.
Been sick. Can’t kick it.
MRI said early onset demyelination. That could be linked to two autoimmune disorders I already have, or early detection of MS.
My best friend isn’t talking to me anymore, and I’ve no idea why. It hurts. Badly. Maybe… maybe I’m just too much sadness, sickness, brokenness, cancerous … maybe it’s emotionally too much for her. Maybe she’s afraid my life is infectious.
I mean, yeah, I’ve got issues, but I’ve been there for her for years.
Decades.
I don’t get it. And I have a lot of beauty in my life. And you know what? I think I do a damn good job of sharing that, too.
It’s not just her. Family is crappy towards me as well, but my best friend of 25+ years hurts wayyyy more than judgemental in-laws.
Just sick and tired right now.
Taking a Beating
Received some concerning news regarding my MRI. Will update once I’ve digested a bit more. In the meantime, sharing a poem I wrote. If people like it, maybe I’ll share more. Love & Peace. Let’s take care of ourselves and each other. ✌💛🙏
ONCOMING TIDE by @JENM_CURRY 2018
Sitting by the phone
Waiting for a call
From family or a friend
But again, nothing at all.
Staring out the window
Maybe I’ll see a friend’s car
But truth is, they’re not that interested
When things start to fall apart.
See, it’s easier to deal with fun me
The one not rotting inside and out
Easier to go along pretending
Hiding things they’ll never know about.
Sitting in the dark
Hoping for a text
Nothing coming through, though
Except what medically happens next.
(And the doctor, he says more tests.)
Look, as far back as I can remember
Ages four, five, maybe six
Been told I was over-reacting
Hypochondriac, crazy chick!
Family calls me pill-popper
Accused of emptying bank accounts
Not even true. But so what?
That’s not what life is all about.
More and more by myself
Husband works, kid in school
Always dreamt of being something grand
What a misguided, loser, failure, fool.
People say count your blessings
Agreed, and I’ve done that quite a lot
But people continue to disappear
Who I thought were friends are not.
Looking forward to the day
Without weighing best methods of suicide
Days filled with my Savior and no pain
Somewhere on the other side.
(I’ll watch for you in the oncoming tide.)
*photo cred from deviantart by diogomoura*
What Worked
What Worked ~ 8.16.18
Feeling some better. I’m having to work at it, but I’m doing what it takes.
Even hit a Christmas in July Sale with my mom.
Beyond Roses
BEYOND ROSES ~ 6.21.18
You can stop to smell gorgeous, unique, intriguing flowers – any flowers, in addition to roses. Do what you desire. Do what brings you those moments of joy.
A Pic Says It Best
Nothing can describe it more accurately than a simple photo.
When Bipolar Depression and Fibromyalgia are kicking your a**.
(Honestly trying to look my best with these supportive pillows, heating pads, ice, Voltaren gel, and no care or energy to comb my hair today. Though, I did manage to drive my son to youth group at church. That’s big on a day like this.)
Every Day
Every. Single. Day. ~ (Trigger Warning)
So, here’s one.
When I wake in the morning, our dog has to go out, not only to do his business, but also to play and run. It makes me smile. He’s fun, and I also love watching the birds and hearing their songs. Fresh air. Watering the lawn. Stuff like that. Then, I also love watching a cooking show, at least one each day, sometimes more. Fascinates me, all they can come up with and demonstrate. I will listen to music or read a book, and I’ll do some adult coloring. Fun stuff. And I feel good in those moments. I truly do. I do stretches and light exercise. I take my meds for Bipolar (and other mental health acronyms) as well as Fibromyalgia and other auto-immune mess. Meds AND vitamins and supplements.
And just as easily as all of that delight comes each day, so does the internal voice in the quieter moments…the one that says, “just swallow all the pills and you’ll be done with it.”
And honest to God, if it wasn’t for my family and a few friends who would be upset, I’d chug them now instead of writing this.
I think there is a common misconception that a person is suicidal and goes to the nut-hut (as I jokingly, lovingly call it – hey, I’ve been three times, I’ll call it what I want)…where was I? Oh yeah. I think folks think a person gets help and is no longer suicidal, and I know that’s how it is for some. That’s a good deal. I also know there are many like me who are chronically suicidal, even if unseen on the surface.
Understand this, there is a real reason to be suicidal, it just doesn’t always make itself known to those of you without mental health issues because it’s so well hidden. I have years of practice hiding that. If you could see inside of me – my soul, my brain, you’d be horrified. It is quite possible to have a good day and be suicidal.
So, what is my point? Not a lot, really. Just saying that, at least for me, it’s always there. Chug the pills. Find the gun. Car on, garage door shut. Blah, blah. Daily, I tell the instinct, the inner voice, no. But, I often wonder if one day that voice will win.