Why am I here…

For the longest time, as long as I can remember in fact, I have allowed myself to suffocate my hopes and dreams with what many doctors have told me is mental illness. I was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder when I was 15 years old, while in one of my several stunts within a mental institution. As a child I fought both the doctors and my family, insisting that if I was indeed “out of control” as many might say, then that was just who I was. I loved the fire that burned inside me, I thought it made me strong, made me different, made me who I wanted to be. But like many fires, I was uncontrollable. And I found out the hard way, that this person, this life I was living was literally my highway to hell.

I didn’t even know who I was, because my emotions took over, rage took over, fear, sadness, hate and resentment all bubbling beneath the surface. Everything I thought that made me strong, was in fact everything that was drowning me inside. I couldn’t even control myself, and everyday I lived in fear of what I may do. Was today the day I snapped and destroyed everyone and everything around me? When I let the rage overcome, the whole world went dark, I felt the only way to make it better, was to make everyone else suffer with me. Like that would someone justify everything. To feel the unescapable pain that I felt, everyday. I hurt not only myself, but at some point in my life, I hurt everyone that I ever cared about. It has taken what seems to me as a lifetime, to see and realize what seems so simple now, but was lost to me for so long. My unstable and reckless behavior cost me to lose almost everyone I ever cared about and loved.

It left me asking myself what is my damn purpose in life? Anyone’s life? To become rich and successful? A saint, or hero? A good mother, a good sister, a good daughter? And if that is true, what and who defines us as good or bad? Right and wrong? Why do some of us flourish with little to no effort? While others struggle with every ounce of their soul, just to find their place in the world? Is it true that we all have a purpose? Is there really a plan that long ago was set in motion that we unknowingly follow? Well, I think we all must wonder all these things sometimes.

Those are some of the questions that drove me crazy. Because I didn’t know? And I desperately wanted to do right, be good, follow my own dream. This whole time I was struggling for a specific answer, when maybe there is none. Maybe my purpose, our purpose, is to live! Live life, every day, loving it, enjoying it, following the path you want, the one YOU feel is right.

I couldn’t possibly explain my whole life and what brought me here in one short blog.  But my own mental illness is only one of my many battles I’d like to share with the world. In hopes that we can help each other understand mental illness better and find more ways to release its dark tight grasp on so many people.

My younger brother is another reason I share my story, he lost his battle with mental illness, and took his own life many years ago. And I must say that was one of the hardest struggles of my entire life and pulling myself together for my family and for my two beautiful daughters, has taken every bit of strength I had left in me. But I know now, I’m right where I’m supposed to be, a first step perhaps to my dream. To write, for someone to listen and for it to resonate with them somehow. To help those like me, like my little brother. I couldn’t help him in time, but back then I couldn’t help myself. And as I’m sure it does with many others, the “what if’s” may haunt me forever, but only if we let it. We all have a choice to be who we want to be and although I cannot change the past, I know now, that I am NOT my mistakes. The bad choices I made are just things that I have done, along the way to finding out who it is I really want to be. (so far I’ve found, what seems like a hundred ways NOT to live) I know there must be a lot of people out there such as myself, who ether struggle with mental illness or love someone who does. Many people look at mental illness as a dark cloud, suffocating all those involved, but it doesn’t have to be that way. We are not our diagnose!  Our lives don’t have to be out of control, and I’ll be the first to tell you that giving into therapy, medicine and some natural remedies didn’t take away the person I was, but helped me find the person I wanted to be.

I want this blog to be my story, a sort of journal, ranting space, someone to listen when it seems as if the whole world has shut me out. It may not be much now, but hopefully one day, it will be a resource, an outlet, an exchange of information and sources, all for the better. I want people to know that there is hope out there, and if I can pick myself up out of the grasp of death itself, then so can you:)

96 thoughts on “Why am I here…

    1. Thank you, Sorry I;m not good at keeping up on this, life has been busy. But some great sites I would suggest are “My brains not Broken” “Splintered Mind” “Bipolar Bandit” and of course the “NAMI” blog are some of my favorites. Hope this helps.

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