A Disorder Behind a Disorder

from Flawed Masterpieces

Flawed Masterpieces

A Disorder Behind A Disorder

My first memory as a child is of a little boy named Ian pulling down my pants in front of cars driving our neighborhood street, telling me to be Madonna while he pretends to be Dick Tracy. He had no doubt seen recently seen the famous film starring Warren Beatty and the infamous singer that has become synonymous with unbridled sex. I was exposed and vulnerable, alone with a friend who had seen a sex scene that should have been forbidden by his parents, this much I assume. Why it matters seems foreign to me and yet this is where it starts.

A man named Reggie tells me we all have a disorder behind our disorder. Mine is bipolar disorder tho I know there’s something deeper. What doctors tell me is a vicious and never ending cycle of mania and depression must have a root…

View original post 1,038 more words

Another type of bravery worthy of recognition (surviving hardships)

from Bird Flight

Bird Flight

BraveryWhen I was a young girl, and then a young woman, nothing could stop me. I felt there was nothing to fear. As a child, I rode my bike alone throughout the town. As a young woman, I traveled alone in countries across the globe. I knew that things would always work out fine, even if I ran into trouble. 

Was it just the way I was raised that made me, a female, so confident and unintimidated? Or did a bit of my bipolar disorder contribute to that, too? After all, bipolar mania can make you feel on top of the world, indestructible, and all powerful. It can also make you more apt to taking risks because of an impulsivity that a stable mind would resist because of common sense, or general caution. 

Exhibiting an air of confidence can get you many places and many things. How easy…

View original post 506 more words

Happy Birthday Daddy 1940-1992

from the Looking for the Light Blog

Looking For The Light

The morning after you killed yourself we went to secure the house. I knew immediately you suffered slowly. Among the papers, trash and clothes I found your lock box. The divorce paperwork to my mother, every card I gave you as a child. I found the pad you were writing on. Your Bible on coffee table, dried tears as you read Job.

The note had 11:30 a.m. written in corner. I could see you called your best friend and the phone number to a suicide line. There were words and a drawing that made no sense. Granny paralyzed, crying, asking why. The house ransacked, not sure anything made sense to her.

Dirty dishes piled high, nothing in refrigerator, how did you live like this, how long? You phoned me several times in the months before your death. Delusional and highly paranoid each time. Someone was tapping your phone, they were trying…

View original post 157 more words

Thank You, Treatment Team

FIGHT STIGMA – THERE IS HOPE

Kitt O'Malley

Photos of my treatment team: Alex Michelson, MD; Brynne Lum, LMFT; My Family (son and husband)

Assuming that my therapist, Brynne Lum, LMFT, was not available (she’s very popular), I called my psychiatrist to see if he was available. He was! Yay!

Alex Michelson, MD saw me, listened to me, and reassured me that it sounds like I’m exhausted, which is understandable considering all that I’ve done in the last year and a half.

Brynne happened to be there when I visited, and I learned that she had a cancellation next week. Double yay! Now I don’t have to wait until the end of the month to see her.

Dr. Michelson reminded me that group therapy was always available for me to rejoin.

Anyway, before I got through to my team, I decided to take a couple of days off. Not exactly on a nature retreat. Just staying in a local hotel overlooking our local toll road (which is LOUD). Not as nice as I…

View original post 16 more words