Dear Therman

It's 2:43 and I'm at work right now. Thank you for your last comment. Last week mostly I was just sick with the flu. I actually did make Ann's event. I decided at the last minute to go. I had been resting for most of that day and the day before trying to heal. By Saturday evening I decided I was ok enough to get out. I'm glad I did, though I probably should have rested more since all of the symptoms were back the next day. Thank you though for being concerned.

I'm feeling pretty even today emotionally. I was a bit dazed on Monday after a conversation with my therapist. She thinks I numb myself more than I should. She is right. Though I have not conceded that it is a problem. Not out loud anyway. My ego is too stubborn for that. My reaction to the conversation is a tell that I know I need to make some changes. I have been trying to be committed to being honest with myself and others on this bipolar journey. Truthfully though, instead of accepting this and being more powerful about dealing with it, a huge part of me keeps trying to prove that I don't have this thing, this lie, these highs, these lows. But I do. Every time I turn around there is one more symptom, one more sign that says I do. Even down to the ways I cope with the shifts in my head. I have always felt this rise, this chemical elevator go up and up and then this weird anxiety. Pills and wine have how I have self medicated. Whatever pills. Codeine from the dentist, Roshann's headache medicine, some whatever it was the doctor prescribed for my cramps, whatever, oh...and wine. Something to bring me down, to help me sleep. This is hard to admit. This is the part that's not pretty. All of this. I remember in Landmark Education they used to say that there is no truth about somebody without the ugly of it somewhere. We always want to show our pretty. I'm no different. When I told my therapist "no, I don't have a problem, I just take something every day" I could have dug a hole in the floor and crawled in it. Who was that? Certainly not me. And when she suggested I go to group therapy sessions I looked at her like she belonged in the hole I considered digging for myself. I just can't wrap my head around standing in front of a group of people and saying "hi, my name is Jaha and I'm a pill head." I've been finding ways to cope with an illness I never had a name for until earlier this year. I never considered it an addiction, I was doing what I could do to make it through. I mask it well. I'm never socially visibally out of pocket (mostly, maybe, ok wait...) Keep a pretty cool and together enough demeaner. I'm ok, you're ok. Right?

Then there is still the question in the room. What am I numbing myself for? What do I not want to feel? Those were her questions, not mine. We talked. Progress you know. All of this was on my head as I drove home. My mind was racing with how wrong she was and maybe this therapy thing is not what I need after all. Of course I would consider getting off the roller coaster when the work is being done. Right in the middle of the ride. Then when I got home I took like five Advils to take a nap. Therman, I'm raw and vulnerable right now. I don't want to be writing about this. Someone though, is hiding this. Someone though, is on this journey too. Someone though, should know she's not alone. I'm afraid you know sometimes. Of my words, my confessions, my posts. Afraid of being judged by all of the people in my life who only see the pretty in themselves. Yes, sometimes I am afraid. And I get over it.

So that you know, Monday was the last day I took any pills. I did have two glasses of wine on Tuesday though. Nothing yesterday. Nothing today. Something can become such a coping habit for you that you don't even realize it's a thing. You know? Well, it's a thing. Sleep or no sleep. Anxiety or no anxiety. I don't need the pills. I don't need the wine. Ok, giving up the wine might be more of a commitment than I'm honestly willing to make right now. But today. Today I don't need anything. And that's where I am. In today. Thank you, thank you dear uncle, for always listening.