Daily Archives: December 20, 2013

Effects Of Bullying

I am an effect of bullying. I experienced during school and after school bullying from the time I was about 7 to the age of 16. This bullying occurred in one form or another at every school I attended from grammar school through high school. The consequences of said bullying have lasted well into my […]

Letting Go

Sometimes you will say or do things in your life that, for whatever reason, you consider to be the right thing to say or do.  And then later down the road, you realize how very wrong you were.  There are several things you can do at this point. You can accept blame instead of making excuses.  You can ask for forgiveness.  You can try your best to change in every way possible into someone wiser and more aware of reality so that you never make those same mistakes again.  You can live and learn and try to grow from it, instead of collapsing under the consequences. You will find people along the way that love you, that stand by you, that understand, or at least try to.  You will also lose a lot of people in your life, because no matter how sorry you are, you can’t undo your past, and they will never let you forget it. This part will hurt more than you can imagine, but you have to remember: their judgment of you says more about their character than it does about yours.  

The point is, time does not stop for your broken heart. You can’t move backward, and you can’t stay still.  You have to move forward.  Otherwise, you aren’t living.  You are just dying in slow motion. 

I have been dying in slow motion for eight years. I have even tried to speed up the process a few times.  But I am still breathing.  Still hurting, still dying, but my heart is still beating and I still have a few brain cells left.  And I realize I can’t keep doing this to myself.  I can’t keep hovering over things done, things said, things that can never, ever be repaired.  I have to move on.  I don’t know how to do this.  Therapists have not been able to tell me how to do this.  Friends haven’t. Enemies haven’t.  No one can tell me how to do this.  I have to learn it on my own.  But I think, finally, I am ready to do that.  Because I can’t live like this anymore.  I can’t keep telling people I am sorry when they will never care enough to listen.  I can’t keep wishing I was dead just for fear that I will have to remember how to live.  To live after such an awful loss, where do you begin?  This isn’t a jigsaw puzzle that can be pieced back together.  

I think the first step is to realize what I still have and what I have gained.  To spin around in the could-have-beens, should-have-beens, is to relive the same hell over and over and over again. Up until this point I felt too guilty to let go.  I felt like I deserved to never get over this, to never move forward.  As if holding myself prisoner would somehow prove to the ones I hurt how much I loved them, how much I want the best for them.  Instead, it has consumed me to such a point that no one wants to be around me, including my children. I continue to hurt them by not moving on, by lingering in the pain and being unable to reach out to them because I am so bogged down in the mire of memory.  This has to stop before I sever what little relationship I still have with them.   

I have always been a forgiving person.  There have been a few people who have significantly damaged me in my lifetime, but I let go.  I moved on.  I didn’t hold a grudge or dwell on hatred for them.  Why haven’t I shown myself the same grace?  So this is me, right now, forgiving myself.  And I can’t lie and say there is a huge rush of relief in it.  Perhaps it is not a thorough forgiveness.  But it is a start.  And if I can choose to forgive myself a little more each day, maybe one day soon I can feel the motion of living again.  Everyone I love deserves for me to try.  


I had several ideas to post today, but I’m going to have to skip it because yesterdays post took a lot out of me. It’s not from the emotions that were stirred up (and there was a lot), but it’s made me reflect on where I am today and where do I go from here. … Continue reading »

All Quiet On The Western Front

It’s amazing how different this Christmas feels than last year. A year ago, I was still reeling from the shock of my bipolar diagnosis and suffering through a deep depression to boot; I was also insecure in my job (which turned out not to be unfounded), anxious, frustrated, and afraid. This December, however, is much calmer and I feel as though there is a guiding hand helping steer my little red wagon, despite the fact that the year has been one nightmare after another and I’ve questioned my faith more than once.

I am definitely on an even keel now. It’s like bipolar disorder has never even existed for me. But never fear—that last go-round forever laid to rest any ideas I might have had about NOT having it. There will be no more mental meanderings into “well, maybe it’s really x instead of y” territory; even if x does show up, I’ll still be y. There’s simply way too much evidence of it. I don’t know if this constitutes acceptance or not, but whatever you call it, that particular battle is over.

And in a way, it’s a relief. It’s also one less thing to stew about, which is probably part of the reason why this Christmastime feels so much more settled. I know what I’m dealing with, and I’m learning better ways to prevent trouble instead of relying on meds and frantic calls to Dr. Awesomesauce to save me when I’m up to my hairline in it.

Not that I DON’T need to rely on meds……oh, no, I got over that months ago. I no longer resent taking medications or feel the need to rebel against some unidentified authority by ‘forgetting’ them. I will always wish I didn’t have to take pills to function normally, but I do and that’s that. Might as well wish for the Lifetime TV channel to skip the sappy holiday movies. (Well, I’ve wished for that too, and look where it got me.)

So I have little to complain about as I survey my surroundings with satisfaction. The Christmas lights are twinkling merrily, the house is warm, Will is napping contentedly in his recliner, and there are gifts under the tree with my name on them. Life is good for now…..and if you’re like me (or even if you’re not), ‘for now’ is all you can really count on anyway.