The woman in the beige dress coat adjusted her purse over her shoulder as she walked towards the door. She stopped before she grabbed the handle and turned to all of us and said, “Merry Christmas. My wish for you is to get better. You will.”
It took the entire room aback. No one ever really talks in the waiting room. I cleared my throat, “You too,” I said.
As the door closed heavily behind her, my focus diverted back to the used tissue that I twirled in my hand. The middle was soaked with tears caught just before the rest of the waiting room noticed. One gentle tug and the entire thing would rip. I didn’t have anymore tissues with me and there were none set out in boxes on top of his speakers that streamed jazz music.
IÂ bit my lip and prayed that I could keep my shit together before I got into his office.
Things were finally getting better.
I was coming out of my shell, enjoying the world around me.
We put up our tree listening to Twisted Sister singing Deck The Halls.
We laughed so hard in the grocery store as an elderly woman walked right through a toot bomb from a very gassy 4 year old.
I was finally waking up.
It felt as though I was walking forward with my head turned up to the clouds, embracing freedom of the shackles that held me down for so long.
And I didn’t even see it coming.
The bump in the middle of the road.
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I wanted to post this before Christmas, but decided not to. When I saw Dr. B we decided to increase the lithium. I truly believed that it was going to put me back on track so there was really no need to wave the white flag on the blog.
I started to get physically ill in a matter of days when I started the new dose. I honestly thought that I had a wicked stomach virus that lasted for 4 weeks.
Needless to say, we decreased the dose after the New Year.
Then again.
Then again.
Then again.
While I’m finding that I’m much better physically on this low dose, I mentally feel like I’m on a tight rope, hanging on by one toe. The depression and anxiety has been slowly getting worse yet still sort of manageable. Meaning I can trudge through my day without thinking about death and worrying if the city worker who is chopping down trees is going to come and rape me.
Dr. B says I appear better but anyone can see that when I wash my hair and throw on make-up. It doesn’t mean that what’s lurking inside doesn’t exist.
I’m having issues controlling my anger. It was evident when I kicked the bathroom door open on Saturday because Shawn asked me to put away some towels.
I totally Chuck Norris-ed that shit.
I somehow feel like everyone around me views me as a difficult patient. I’m not. I comply with my medical care, I take my medications. I also do things like engaging in activities I love. I take time outs when moments feel out of control. I walk. I soak in the sun when it’s out. I reach out to friends and family when I need to and so on and so on.
I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for things to happen. I’m trying to make them happen.
I know that there is no magic pill in the entire universe that will make me happy. Nobody walks around happy all the time. No one. We all have good days and bad ones.
What I’m looking for in all of this is balance.
Less fighting more living.
This bipolar business involves a lot of work from both the medication and the patient and I’m doing all that I can.
It’s not my fault that my body reacts to medications in a negative way. I’ve always been like that. I try to trudge through the side effects giving them a chance. Most of the time the side effects go away. Lithium scares the shit out of me. I want it to work. But if I can’t get any higher than this dose I’m currently on without feeling like death, I’m wondering if this medications is worth it at all.
I’m not sure where this post is even going.
The word count is 769.
Food for thought.
I hate posts longer than 500.
Kidding.
Maybe.
Anyways, I’m back. My drugs laced my brain with stupid juice. I apologize in advance.
For those of you who stuck around, I am rewarding you with this awesome photo.
I made my son walk to school when the temperatures could freeze even the devil’s nipples. I’m glad Chunky will be able to tell his kids “When I was your age, my Mom made me walk to school in -17 degree weather”…
I like creating memories.
xoxox
So good to see a post from you. I’ve missed reading your words but sorry to hear about the struggles. I see you have not lost your wicked sense of humor though because you totally cracked me up with that Chuck Norris line. I’m gonna have to remember that one. I may have been known to kick the bathroom door once or twice myself.
Keeping you in my prayers…
And that IS an awesome photo of you and Chunky. I’m not sure I’d be able to step outside in those temps! Holy Smack!
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I’m still here, still reading, still loving you! Always! xo
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Totally awesome photo, and totally awesome to see that lovely smile on your face
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I haven’t been to work much this week. As I write this I’m sitting in week old yoga pants and days old t-shirt. I think of you. Often. I decided to stop piling on makeup when I feel like shit so when I say I’m fine to people, they say…you don’t look fine. This happened yesterday with my boss. I broke down crying and he sent me home. Hanging by a thread and living minute to minute. Hours are just too long.
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Arnebya Reply:
February 6th, 2013 at 11:03 am
@Pamela Gold, Oh, Pamela. I wish I could hug you right now, make you some tea, watch episodes of The Golden Girls to at least make you laugh (because really, who can’t laught at Sophia’s comments to Blanche?) Anyway, I’m hoping you find a way through. Just keep at it. Keep at it.
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Even though we talk every day I don’t like it when you go away.
This is what bipolar is. You’ve described it perfectly.
And it sucks.
But we manage, for the most part.
Thank God for our families who understand (most of them), and for our friends (thank you).
Love you vajina lips.
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We’re not leaving …
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We had to up my lithium and add depakote and still my rage is so high I can hardly function. I broke the dustpan last week when I threw it at my husband. I blogged about the anger. One person told me to confess my sin to a trusted older Christian, another told me to give up all grains in my diet. I finally made a therapy appointment with a new therapist. I miss my doctor.
So glad you are back Kim. So glad.
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Ah. I’ve been thinking of you, checking in periodically to see what’s up. I see what’s been up. Take care of you. And yes, that photo is awesome and yes he will remember trudging to school in the cold as he tells his kids to stop their bitchin’ about a few feet of snow.
We’re here. Believe me, we’re here. In fact, some of us just might understand way more than we let on. We’re still here.
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Missed you. So much.
I’m sorry the balance is so freaking elusive. I do love that you KNOW you need to do more living, less fighting. I love that you ARE making the most of the living moments.
Even if it’s nipple-freezing cold. xoxo
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I’ve been thinking about you. xxx
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Hi Kim,
I. WISH. I. COULD. DO. SOMETHING.
I never write one word sentences, but I feel that so hard it hurts.
Just wanted to let you know.
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Sweet Kim, I missed your face. So glad to see that you are still writing. Damn those bumps in the road. I wish I could wave a magic wand and give you that stability you crave. Huge hugs.
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You don’t know how happy I am to see you come back to my reader. (And I saw the picture of the walking to school on instagram, and I love that attitude. I also love my heated car seats
)
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I’ve been thinking about you a lot and was so happy to see this post of yours. I miss you and I think about you a lot and my wish for you is for you to feel better. xoxoxo
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Wow, do your readers love you! And for good reason…
I’m sorry that you have “bumps in the road” – and I completely understand about feeling like you’re “on a tightrope, hanging on by one toe”…
When I saw the picture of you and Chunky, I thought of that James Taylor song,
“Whenever I see your smiling face(s),
I have to smile myself”…
Janet
xoxox
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:04 pm
@Janet, Love you so much Janet xox
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Your toes survived walking to school in the snow and freezing weather? So did mine! Hang in there babe!
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:03 pm
@jen, It’s all in the boots baby. All in the boots.
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~~~~~Kim,
I’ve missed you, sweets.
Life is hard. Isn’t it amazing how we continue to move forward?
Little by Little…moment by moment…
Are you freezing your ass off in Canada? I am in MN!
Love to you flowing from Duluth. Xxxxxx
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:03 pm
@My Inner Chick, It sure is, but as long as we have beautiful people around us who love us, we always have something to fight for.
We were freezing for a while. Now it’s like 40 out. Weird. xoxo
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Making memories is fun. Huge hugs.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:02 pm
@Imperfect momma, Frostbite…I mean memories, last forever.
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Kimberly, I hope it gets better for you – soon. I know I can’t understand what you are going through but I still wish you all the best. Hugs.
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You’ve been so quiet. That worried me. I’m glad you’re back, but I’m sad that you’re having such a rough time. Keep fighting, Babe. We’re still here with you.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:01 pm
@Laura Wright @ The ODD Mom, I just needed a breather. I am so sorry for making you worry. Thank you for still supporting me. It means the world xoox
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I am so happy to see you back here and even more happy to see your smile. Keep fighting, I know you can do this.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:00 pm
@Kimberly, I’m glad to be back too. I just needed a moment…a long one with wine…or beer…with or without cookies…I’m not picky xoxo
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Creating memories is a beautiful thing, and I love that picture. I also love that you are back here.
I’m so sorry that you are walking that tightrope right now. Sending you lots of love as you search for the balance. You will find it. I believe in you.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:00 pm
@Tracie, Thank you so so much Tracie. Really xo
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I can empathize, because I touch enough on the world to understand where you are coming from, yet not nearly enough to be even close to comparing/contrasting my life with your own struggles. But I do get it. I hated myself this morning when I snapped in rage at my three year old – she deserved the discipline but I hated the feeling of loss of control of my rage, not so much slipping away like a feather in the wind but rather being yanked out like a tree being uprooted. I hated that – even though I did nothing wrong parenting-wise, I hated that feeling that consumed me and tried to turn me into someone I never wanted to be nor recognize. I loved the day a few days ago where I was filled with inexplicable joy, and had an impromptu dance party with my kids in the livingroom – such happiness/joy from such a simple pleasure!
I hate that I then had that followed of days of endless uneasiness, anxiety, inability to dance, more inclined to rebuff and snap.
I am not nearly severe enough to require meds (for which I am grateful) yet am affected enough still to be left to wonder – why? Why is it so hard? What on earth is going on that so many more of my days are spent lost in anxiety/stress/rebuffing then spent in happiness/joy/dance parties? My life is great. My kids are fantastic, my husband is wonderful. We want for nothing. So why is my soul so wanting ?
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:59 pm
@Kande, Why is my soul so wanting…that struck me. The thing is we aren’t asking for sunshine and glitter, we are asking, starving, craving life…balance. And it is so hard when you’re unwell.
You’re not a bad parent. Even “normal” ones snap at their kids. Your 3 year old knows that you love her no matter what. Promise.
I hope for better days ahead for you xo
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I’m glad to see your smile and your pretty face. I understand the fight too well. I know you have tried everything. I know how sucky side effects can make you feel. The good thing is you are sticking to the plan and making your own adjustments by choosing to trudge on. Your son will continue to provide you the strength! I love you girl! I think of you often.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:57 pm
@Mamaintheburbs, Those are beautiful words friend. There is always more to try. I’ll get there. I have a lot of love in my corner
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Oh, Kim. I wish the fight wasn’t so hard, but I’m so glad that you never stop fighting.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:56 pm
@story, Thank you friend. xoxo
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I’ve missed your face, girl. So very much. I’m glad you keep fighting the hard fight.
I am not a “pray-er” but I send them to you anyway. Positive thoughts and healthy vibes. I wish I lived near you so I could squeeze you to pieces.
Sending love.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:56 pm
@Andrea, Come on up to Canada
I appreciate all the good vibes. I’m not a pray-er person either. But a good vibe thrower. xoxo
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I’ve been thinking about you, hoping for the best. I know you and your dr felt like lithium was the last ditch effort, so I’m sending all of the love and hope that I can, that you can get something figured out.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:55 pm
@Greta @gfunkified, Thank you sweets. I’m thinking it’s a no go. I’m on the lowest dose and I feel crappy. But it’s ok if it doesn’t work. There is always something to try.
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you know you can’t shake me.
silly you.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:54 pm
@Katei, Muwhahaha. You’re like a mole but a pretty one…like Cindy Crawford’s mole.
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So good to see you back here. I am hoping the days will come where you can live more & fight less. Hugs Kim.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:53 pm
@Andrea, Miss you. I do too. xoxo
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I was just coming to see where you were. Because, you know, I think about you and stuff.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:53 pm
@Robin | Farewell, Stranger, I was hiding under a couch somewhere. I found some crayons and a half of a cheeto. I consider that a win
xoxo
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It’s good to see you back. Hang in there, you’ve got lots of people who care.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:52 pm
@Cheryl, Thank you. I’m hanging in. It’ll get better
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Cheryl Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 3:40 pm
@Kimberly, Yes you will!
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That is an awesome picture.
You are doing a great job of the most difficult task; life balance, and managing your mental health on top of it. I’m so proud of you for hanging in there.
And you are totally rocking some memories.
So good to read your words. xo
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:52 pm
@Julia, I’m glad to be back. Missed you and thank you so much for your kind words xoxo
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I love your honesty & am so sorry you have to deal w/this. That we have too deal w/this.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:51 pm
@Valerie, I’m sorry that you have to too. (((hugs)))
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Miss you girly. And so appreciate your brutal honesty. Also, I read all the way to the end…in case you were wondering.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 11th, 2013 at 2:51 pm
@susan, Miss you too
I wish I had a prize to give you for reading it to the end, but sadly I do not 
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Gosh, I love to read your words. It’s because you are always unapologetic and REAL as the day is long. Your posts always resonate with me, so you know.
The reality of the matter is (and something I’m learning to deal with, too) that this will always be a day-by-day process. There’s simply no overnight cure that will ease anxiety, depression, and those endless mood swings. But look at you, creating memories with your boy and enjoying a laugh at someone walking through a fart bomb. These are moments that we are gifted in life and you know how to enjoy them. You are so much further on than you even realize.
XOXO and great big *HUGS* to you.
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Kimberly Reply:
February 14th, 2013 at 1:41 pm
@Charlotte, This is such a beautiful comment. I miss you my friend.
I sometimes don’t realize how far I’ve come until someone points it out to me. Thank you for making me stop and reflect. You’re a great friend xox
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