I didn’t think I was going to make it out of August.
August. One of the most emotionally unstable months of my life. The fact that I’m sitting here writing is a miracle on its own.
The pain in my mind was out of control. It had to end. One way or another, it had to. I couldn’t go on living that way any longer.
Back then, I didn’t think I was going to see the month of September. But I did. Then I saw October, November, and December too.
In August, I wrote random dates in my journal. To the regular person, they were just unintentional dates, but to me, they were goals. The goal was to still be alive. To be alive for my husband, my kids, my mom and dad, and my sacred friends.
Who makes goals like that? People who have given up. I had definitely given up on myself. The bipolar made me do it.
I also wrote these questions—things to think about when I reached a date:
>> How are you feeling?
>> Who have you had constructive conversations with lately?
>> Who checked on you?
>> Who have you checked on?
>> Who did you hang out with?
>> Did that person make you feel complete? Wholesome? Unjudged?
>> What changed?
>> What’s the same?
>> What are you prioritizing?
Being able to reflect in a productive way has become vital in how I’m surviving. Being able to realize some things that are taking up space in my head are essentially useless is important. Everyone needs to do it.
It doesn’t matter what side of a relationship you’re on. Growth happens for each of us in our own way. If a relationship is meant to last, it will. Feelings and intentions change, and that’s okay. We need to normalize being honest with ourselves if something isn’t working.
My advice is to literally take it one day at a time. One day turns into a week; a week turns into a month; a month turns into six months; six months turns into a year. It’s cliché AF, but it’s so unbelievably true.
If something isn’t working, change it. Change it every day if you have to. Change your environment, your habits, your routine, people. When it’s not working, there’s no point in forcing it to work. Ever hear the expression, “Don’t beat a dead horse?”
To be alive, we have to choose things that make us feel alive. When it makes you happy, hold onto it.
Imagine a room with no lights or windows. You put your hands out, trying to feel something. You finally take a step and feel something. It’s a hand. It’s warm and inviting.
For the moment, let that comfort you. A candle is lit. You finally found some light in your dark world. You can faintly see other objects and people that could potentially make you feel whole. Suddenly more candles are lighting up the room.
Some candles light that you never thought would catch a flame. You notice some lights fade. Some will burn longer than others. That’s okay. Candles aren’t meant to burn forever. Just find a light and hold onto it.
Before you know it, you’ll have a well-lit, warm, inviting life.
While my room may not be as bright as I imagine it could be, it will be someday.