It's crazy how much can change in ten years. I'm a completely different person than I was ten years ago......mainly because I work at being a better version of myself every single day. I feel beyond blessed to be here.....ten years later....stronger and healthier than ever. I made a commitment to myself ten years ago to work harder....to put forth the effort...to place my mental health before all else......and it fucking paid off. I fucking made it.
Ten years ago I was released from a county facility. My third hospitalization in four years. I was nowhere near healthy enough to be released....but the county really doesn't give a fuck about that. They just want to get you "well enough" to release you and clear a bed for another person. Being in the county was by far the WORST experience of my life. The people, the facility, everything about it was horrible. It was the longest stay of them all.......and I wasn't even done yet. After leaving the county I was admitted to another facility in Riverside. Even though I wanted nothing to do with being there, my family and friends felt it was best to voluntarily check myself in because they all knew I wasn't well enough to make rational decisions. I hated every second of being there. I checked myself out against medical advisement and quickly realized I had nowhere to go and no one that would take me in. At the time I remember being so fucking pissed because I couldn't believe that not one person would help me or let me stay with them.....but looking back I'm so glad they didn't. I needed to go back. I needed more time. I needed to get well.
I remember sleeping in my car in Downtown Riverside because no one would let me crash at their place. I tried to go back to the facility but they told me I would have to wait until the next morning to be admitted. I was so upset. I couldn't believe this is what my life had come to......sleeping in my fucking car on the street. No money. Nowhere to stay. I felt hopeless. I realized in this moment that I would never amount to anything if I didn't make my mental health my priority. I felt lost and alone. I could never be a daughter, sister, wife, mother, friend, coworker.......I couldn't be reliable or accountable if I didn't make the effort to get well and stay well. It was in this moment that I realized I was the ONLY person who could control my life. My condition. My future. No matter how much my family and friends loved me......they couldn't save me from myself. From this condition. I was the only one that could make this right. Do things different. Be better.
I finally got my mind to stop racing enough to fall asleep. I was woken up by a knock on the window. I freaked out and looked over and it was my beautiful mom. She came to find me and come with me to the facility to check myself back in. I was there about a month before I was finally released. If you add that to the three weeks I spent in the county, it took about two months to fully recover. TWO months of my life gone. Maybe what my doctor said was right......every time you have a manic episode it takes the brain longer to recover......sometimes never coming back to where it was prior to the episode. When I was diagnosed in 2006, I was hospitalized about a week. In 2008, I was hospitalized about three weeks. This time....two months.
This episode was the worst of them all. More aggressive, violent, and combative. Less self-control. Mind racing faster than ever. I'm pretty sure the weed laced with PCP that I smoked earlier that day didn't help the situation at all.......but then again I didn't know it was laced with PCP until AFTER I was admitted to the county and had blood work done. I remember that day so well. All I wanted was to get my mind to stop. Eat some food. Sleep for hours. It was the TOTAL opposite. I ended up in handcuffs and was taken to the county by the police.
I couldn't understand how I wound up here again. Alone. Completely lost. Unaware of anything because I was so fucking gone mentally. As the days and weeks passed, the memories flooded back (just like they always do after an episode). I felt so ashamed. I was so upset with myself. I let myself fall back into this place. I didn't do what I needed to. I didn't put my mental health first. I refused to accept this was my reality. This facility isn't where I belonged. This isn't what my life is supposed to be.........but it would always come back to this place if I didn't make the effort. If I didn't fucking bust my ass to do things differently. I would always find myself beside myself.....locked away behind these hospital walls....if I didn't do things different. I was 23.....just graduated college.....and instead of being out, enjoying my life, I was here.....at the county.....getting punched in the face by another patient (feel free to refer back to that old blog post lol). I didn't even recognize myself anymore. Something HAD to give. Something HAD to change. It NEEDED to happen. This life was no life at all.
After I got out (the second time), I made a promise to myself. I was going to do everything in my power to do things different. To actually make a life for myself that I could be proud of. Finally control this disorder instead of letting it control me. Everything had to change. I moved. Changed my number. Walked away from "friendships". I use quotation marks because I realized I had used this term too loosely. I had given myself to people who really weren't my friends at all.......who quite frankly didn't give a shit about me. It was time to put myself and my mental health first. I made it a point to stop drinking all together. It was several years before I even allowed myself to consider having a drink again. I wanted to make sure I was mentally and emotionally stable.....that I was strong enough to deal with my issues and stressors head on.....instead of drinking to escape them. I made a commitment to be better.......not only for myself.....but for my family and friends. For my future. For the promise of a better life.
It hasn't been easy. A lot of shit has been thrown my way in the last ten years. Shit that tested me in every single way possible. While it's been a struggle.........it's also been the BEST ten years of my life. I've grown. Evolved. Changed in every way possible. I'm reliable. Dependable. Accountable. Confident. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I know myself inside and out. I'm in tune with my emotions (for the most part lol). I'm able to ride the waves with ease. I allow myself to listen to my head and my heart. Recognize the signs. Realize when I need to give myself room to breathe, process, and kick it into neutral. I've discovered the sweet spot when it comes to my medication. I never miss an appointment. Never miss a blood draw. Make sure to make it to therapy. I finally gave myself my place in life. Finally put myself and my health first. Finally realized I could only be the best version of myself for others if I was the strongest version of myself for MYSELF first.......and realizing this was the best thing that happened.
Ten fucking years. TEN FUCKING YEARS. No relapse. No hospitalization. Ten years. I can't help but cry as I type this because I honestly never thought I would make it here. I never, in my WILDEST dreams, thought I would ever get to this place. The place where being bipolar didn't define or control or rule me. It's so insane to look back at the last ten years........and know I've made it. I fucking MADE it......and I'm SO fucking proud.....and grateful....and thankful.
I told myself that if I could make it to ten years without a hospitalization, I would get a tattoo to commemorate such a HUGE accomplishment (well to me it is anyway). I know what I want.....I've known for ten years. I'm itching and I'm ready. Something to carry with me always. A reminder......that no matter what....I am fully capable of accomplishing anything I set myself out to accomplish. And that is pretty fucking rad. Knowing I can count on myself.....that my friends and family can depend on me. I can look in the mirror and be happy with who I see looking back....I never thought I would ever get here.....and I'm so grateful to be in this place. I worked so fucking hard to get here......and the feeling is so overwhelming. But a good overwhelming. Such a GREAT feeling.
I hit rock bottom. I hit the lowest of the low. I was completely lost. I didn't even recognize myself anymore. I was devastated to see what had become of my life....and the worst part of it all was knowing I brought myself to this place. I had no one to blame for what my life had become but myself......and that was the hardest pill to swallow. I knew it was time. Time to change. Time to take control. Time to make shit right.
A lot can change in a decade. I look back on the last ten years and I am so thankful. So grateful. So FUCKING blessed. Blessed to have lived this life. To have paved this road for myself. To be able to look at everything I have accomplished and know I FUCKING DID THIS. I built this. I made this happen for myself. Like whoa. I fucking did this.
I couldn't have made it without my family and the friends that have become family. I can never repay everyone for the unwavering love, support, laughs, and the swift kick in the ass when necessary. Each of you have one way or another (whether you realize it or not), played SUCH a huge role in helping me achieve this milestone. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart......and you know who you are. I love you. I FUCKING LOVE YOU.
So cheers to ten. Ten years of growth and evolution. Ten years of hard work. Ten years of coming full circle. I can't fucking believe I made it.......but I fucking made it.
Cheers to the next ten. May they be even better than the last.
