wrong side of the bed...

Initially, this post was going to be one long rant, but I thought why do that. Started off as one of those god-i-wish-i-never-rolled-outta-bed kind of days, and my mood, well let's just say, it’s anything but positive. But rather then bore you with all the gory details of this crazy mind of mine I'm going to go clean and hope to put a spin on how crappy I feel. Who would have thought that cleaning could be so cathartic.

Doctor's orders...

As the title says I have been ordered to start writing again. They think it will help since I've been having a problem with my memory since the ECT and lost so much time. Time, something I hope to never take for granted again.

Some history and then I will move on. I am a sufferer of a disease that most people find hard to understand. I am Bipolar. Something that takes over my brain and at times I have no control over. Hard for someone that needs to always be in control. I was diagnosed officially in '97 although they say I have probably had one form or another since I was young. This year has been the hardest, four hospitalizations and a couple suicide attempts. All I remember is feeling like I couldn't go on. Hard when you realize you can get so lost so fast. I wish I can say I knew what triggered me but I can't.

Part of the treatment I received until the end of May was Electroconvulsive therapy. They say I knew the risks, short term memory loss etc. I can't say what happened, all I know is that when I realized how bad the memory loss was I cut all treatment at Sharps.

Six months, gone in what seems like a flash. My daughter entering public school, birthdays, anniversaries, time that I'll never get back. Memories I cannot retrieve. Not knowing what I put my family through and fearful that if it starts to happen again I won't be able to read the signs. I'm trying to put the pieces back together but I'm not having much luck. So now it's time to move forward. It's just been so hard especially when almost on a daily basis I have to either tell my kids or other family members “I don't remember". The guilt, the frustration. Time to let it go, I'm just trying to figure out how.