It's not actually that I lie....

I have been accused recently (and throughout the last 20 years actually) of lying. I have even termed my actions in my own head from time to time as lying. But that's not exactly accurate. I guess in the strictest sense my actions could be termed lies of omission, but as there is absolutely zero malice aforethought, or malicious intent I am uncomfortable with classifying them as such.

See what I really do is hide. Not lie, but hide.

Driven perhaps by fear, shame, disappointment, or a need for protection. I started out life incredibly gifted. Both intellectually and athletically. I was even rather cute so I guess you could say I had it all. I was gifted, lucky, and incredibly happy. Unfortunately such gifts and good fortune tend to bring about jealousy in others. My first experience with this came at the age of 8 or 9. I was in grade four and was verbally attacked at recess for not dressing like everyone else in my one-horse prairie hick town. I was mocked and told I was a snob because I had left the tiny local gymnastics club in order to train and compete with a club "in the city". At 9 years of age I was told that what I liked was stupid, and going after my goals was ridiculous. I didn't realize at the time how much this affected me. I wish that I could say I got past it and thrived despite it, but I didn't.

The bullying continued. For some reason I seemed to attract friends who found it easier to be jealous than supportive. It all came to a head in high school when my already shaky self-esteem took a hit from a friend from it it would never recover. This blow triggered repressed memories, leading to to PTSD, and eventually a diagnosis of Bipolar 2 disorder in my early 20's.

I am sad to say that at 35 years of age, my self-esteem has never recovered. I am still that 9 year old. Sitting on the swings crying. Wondering what on earth is so wrong with my outfit. And why anyone would ever think going to gymnastics and wanting to do well is a bad thing.

So I hide. I choose what and how much of myself, my life, and my reality at any given point I reveal to every individual in my life.

No one knows 100 percent. No one. The last person who knew about 90 percent broke my heart and left me. So right now no one even knows much more than half.

And which half they know depends on who they are. There are people I've never met and probably never will meet that know more about my current mindset and mental health than my family will ever know. I can't do that to them. I'll feel like I'm letting them down. Like I'm hurting them. Again.

I moved to Vancouver just over two years ago for a fresh start. For a change that was supposed to turn things around and get me out of the rut that rural Saskatchewan and bipolar had sucked me into. New province, new rut. My family doesn't know this. I can't disappoint them. And I cannot let my parents know that there are still days, more days than I wish to admit, that I feel like nose-diving straight off the Cambie Bridge. I can't do that to them. I can't cause them anymore pain. My mother sat at my bedside day and night for nearly 4 days while machines breathed for me after I became too weak to go on. I cannot cause them pain or concern. I've put them through too much. Whether my fault or not, their false belief that I am well and life is good makes them happy and gives them hope. I feel like I owe them that much.

I edit myself with my friends, what few I have, as well. I have enough trouble believing that anyone would ever willingly spend time with me or like me, so I reveal the pieces of me that I think will be appealing to whomever I'm with. I never make things up, or pretend to be something I'm not. I just only let out the pieces of my true self I feel will be the most appealing, or least offensive to my present company.

As you can guess, this is not a very good way to meet new people or maintain meaningful relationships so I spend a inordinate, and most likely damaging amount of time alone. And I hide there too.

I hide in my house because it is easier than going out into the world to risk judgment and failure. I hide in my bed because it is a cocoon of protection and denial that keeps me from realizing how much time I'm wasting being afraid. And I hide from my thoughts which are often frightening or judgmental, but even when they are inspired and positive manage to make me feel guilty for never acting on them or following through.

I hide because it is safe.

I hide because there is less risk.

I hide because even I don't know what or who I really am. Or what it is I really want.

I hide because I am ashamed and afraid.

And I hide because it is easier.


I am sick of taking the easy way out.

I AM SICK OF TAKING THE EASY ROAD.


So often brilliance and madness intersect. I was shamed for my brilliance so I hide in my madness. I use it as a shield, an escape. I must find my brilliance once again. It does not lie in science and math the way it used to. Over the years my experiences have morphed it into something else, changed its focus. The trick is finding it again.

Where did the brilliance go? And how can I use it well? I am convinced that the path to recovery and survival lies here.

Just a boring Monday night????

I was sitting around a a few hours ago and I thought to myself, "ugh it's Monday night and I have absolutely nothing to do."

I sat there bummed out for a few minutes until a now rather obvious thought hit me like a truck; I have a ton of shit I could do, why am I not doing any of it?

I have clean laundry that needs to be folded, dirty laundry that needs to be washed, the bathroom could use a good scrub, the kitchen could use a good scrub, the floors need to be vacuumed, a good dusting wouldn't hurt, my kitchen cabinets are screaming for a reorganization, my front storage room/office is a disaster, my bedroom closet needs a good purging and reorganization.

Ok, so I don't have anything fun to do on a Monday night.

Wrong again. I could knit, read one of the 12 books that I have started in the last year and not finished, paint, listen to music and dance around my apartment, do some pilates, head out for a walk since it stopped raining, text my daughter, call my mother, write my grandmas each a letter, learn some speed reading exercises, organize my photos, search online for fantastically awesome and thoughtful Christmas presents to buy my family, or research volunteer opportunities and toy drives in my city.

At any given point there are probably well over 100 things I could be doing. I am not well enough at this exact moment to be working so I have a ridiculous amount of time to choose to anything at all that I want. Despite this fact, at any given moment I am usually sleeping, watching tv, eating, sitting around, or perusing Twitter and Facebook mindlessly clicking on links and whatnot.

My brain just smacked me upside the head with what a waste that really is. Sleep is good, but not 12 hours a day. TV and movies are great, just not 8 or 9 hours a day. Twitter and Facebook are fun, but not 104 times a day.

So then I says to my brain I says, "brain, why on earth is I bein so stupid?"

No, but honestly, why?

It took a couple of hours and some pondering, eating, and distraction, but I think I have it figured out. It is not that I never have anything to do, it is that I never have any want to do anything. And not just the tedious obligatory cleaning related stuff, but a want for the fun and productive stuff is missing too. I pretend I do. I tell myself the little white lie that I really wish I had more to do, but I often don't. This is what an incredibly long and painful illness has done to me. I don't want to do anything and I don't care that I don't want to do anything. Or at least I haven't cared up until this point, as I have done nothing to change it. This is the apathy and surrender that the horrible depression associated with my Bipolar 2 has caused.

This realization got me quite motivated. For about 6 1/2 minutes. Then I just got sad. Then numb. Then sad again. Then discouraged. More sadness. And now I am writing about it all.

So how do I get my want back? I assume, as with most things, baby steps. Start small. Day 1 do one cleaning thing, one fun thing, and watch just a little less tv. Day 2 increase that, and so on. My problem is not only resolve, but follow through and commitment. Sometimes I will get all motivated and attempt activity and productivity for a few days, and then I will get either bored, distracted, depressed, or scared and I will stop. I have a SEVERE inability to set goals and actually see them through. This pisses me off. Before my Bipolar 2 symptoms began I was one of the hardest working, most dedicated and driven kids you would ever meet. I have not been that person in a very long time. That makes me angry, and sad. Feels like something else stolen from me by this illness. Another area where control has been lost, and it is such an exhausting fight to get it back.

My only hope right now is the old saying, "the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a problem". It is true that there are certain periods of time in my life where it is not that I don't want to do things, it is that because of my symptoms I literally can't. But this is a smaller percentage of days than 95% so I need to get off my ass and do something.

Hi. My name is Cristina and I am a TV and Internet addict. I hide in these activities because the real world scares me. I am afraid of failure, and even more afraid of success. I don't think I'm likeable or interesting so I shut myself off in order to avoid humiliation and hurt. I hide away inside my illness and myself because so many years of fighting have beaten me down and worn me out. It is easier to hide and to not try, than to go through anymore rejection, failure, blame, and judgment.

Hi. My name is Cristina and I am sick of hiding and taking the easy road. Whether motivated by lack of focus, motivation, energy, and direction, or by fear; I am tired of it. I have resolve at this moment. I will take baby steps. I will try to keep fighting. And although I have said this before and not followed through that does not mean that I cannot follow through this time. I CAN succeed, and if I slip up I will forgive myself and start over. Because the only failure is in not trying. The only way I truly fail is if I give up. It will take however long it takes, but if I am still trying and fighting then that is success.

I need to remember that most success is not big, huge and quick. It is a series of small successes. A learning curve. A string of slip ups that you pick yourself up and then learn from. I need to practice patience. And I need to be kind to and forgiving of myself.

It's really all I can do.

a little bit lost and a lotta bit stuck (a rambling, babbling teary-eyed post)

I feel like am supposed to be so much more than what I am right now. Like I should be doing something real, and meaningful, and important. Like there is so much in me that just needs to come out, and be fantastic, and take on the world. I just don't know what. Or how. Or where to start..... When I was a kid it was so easy. I wanted to be a gymnast, and go to the Olympics, then be a Dr and a lawyer and a singer all in one. Well I didn't do any of that. And now that I'm older a horrible mix of fear, illness, bad luck, circumstance, past experience, bad decisions, broken hearts, and bogus expectations is keeping me from even being able to sit down and figure out what it is that I truly want now. I want to be happy - ok fine, just be happy I want to be successful, and busy, and inspirational - at what and for what???? no idea I want more time with my girls - I'm doing all I can, but illness, geography and finances make it a constant struggle and it's never enough I want to love myself so that someone else can love me and I won't die alone - don't even know where to start I want to be secure and safe and taken care of - again, no clue how I want to feel important, and worthy, and useful - but I don't. deep down I really truly don't. and until I do, nothing else is possible 18 years of Dr's and meds and therapy and treatment and I'm no better off, no closer to an answer. I'm really tired of being stuck. I'm really tired of not having any of the answers. And I'm really truly so damn tired of hating the person that I spend all my time with; the fat, useless, lazy, pathetic mess that stares back at me from the mirror every day and taunts me with glimmers of hope but delivers nothing. I wanna fight. I'm just so damn tired. And so damn lost. And so damn stuck. And I really truly honestly have no idea where to even begin. "you don't have to see the whole staircase, just the first step" - well it feels like I am in a hole, inside a well, 10 feet away from the first step with no ladder, no rope, and no flashlight. What now? No seriously, what now? Gratitude..... ok I am grateful for my daughters, for my sister, for my family, for a roof over my head, and a warm bed to sleep in. I am grateful that I have food to eat (even though eating brings more shame and self-hate). I am grateful for a safe country, and basic human rights. I am grateful I'm not dead yet (most days). I am grateful that I have it better than a lot of people. Gratitude exercises are great, until they make you feel like a whiny, even more useless, waste of space than you did before you started them. I know it takes work. I'm willing to work. If I could find some actual direction, purpose or anything to work toward. I don't like or trust myself enough to even know what is that I want. What it is I should be doing. And I don't know how to start. Overcoming that much self-doubt, distrust, and loathing is something I long for so badly, but don't even know how to begin to tackle. What now? Seriously, what now???

Just call me Ms Dragon

This past New Year's I did what millions of other people did, I made a resolution. I resolved to get out of bed and stop hiding, stop bingeing on junk food, watch less tv, exercise even a little bit every week, and make something of my sad hopeless life. The only part I've managed to keep is the junk food part, for the most part I've been eating healthy reasonably sized meals. Otherwise I've completely failed.

Now I realize that setting goals and making changes based on the rolling over of the calendar is a purely psychological trigger, but I tend to be a black-and-white-thinking fatalist and had settled into the belief that since the first 21 days of 2012 were a depressing failure the rest of the year was a hopeless write-off so why bother. I understand this is a gross overreaction, but it was what my serotonin starved, bedridden brain had decided. Until I read an article this morning on the Chinese New Year and the year of the dragon. It dawned on me that I have another shot at "new year new me" and it gave me hope on this dreary morning. And as I've stated before, hope is a rare commodity in my life so I try to embrace anything that triggers it. So instead of a fabulous me in 2012 I am now going to work on a fantastic me in the year of the dragon. Completely arbitrary, totally psychological as it doesn't actually take a new year to start making a new you, but like I said anything that triggers hope in my dark world gets my attention.

Now i am not at all spiritual or superstitious, in fact I think astrology is ridiculous hokum, so colour me a hypocrite and let's continue. For it wasn't just the fact that tomorrow is the start of a new lunar year, but what I read about the year of the dragon that inspired me. The dragon is considered to be the most powerful of all the Chinese zodiac symbols, and is associated with high energy, prosperity, and superior control. When I read this I realized that that was basically what I was shooting for with my original resolutions. The dragon is seen as a good symbol that brings with it a change from bad to good. How perfect? That's exactly what I need. I further discovered that this past year was the year of the rabbit, a symbol associated with instability, and unstable is a very apt description of this past year. I took this as a sign that I need to try again, and take advantage of "the change from bad to good" whether I'm superstitious or not.

I also learned that when creating the dragon totem ancient Chinese tribes combined totems of the Phoenix, tiger, lion, and scorpion so the dragon is considered to be "everything". If you're a dragon you're everything. And that is what I want, to be everything I've ever dreamed of. Strong, courageous, successful, innovative, hard working, and happy. It seems like I've been side tracked forever because of this illness, but this is the year of the water dragon. A year that only comes around once every sixty. So maybe this my year, my rare unique year to finally conquer. To make a change and succeed instead of fail.

It's completely superstitious and ridiculous, but so what? Nothing else has worked so why not give it a try? It has given me hope that maybe this year will not be a total write off so I'm gonna run with it. First step, actually get out of bed tomorrow and accomplish something other than 10 hours of tv watching and a nap. Wish me luck.

Call me Ms Dragon. I am everything.

here goes.....

so there's no point starting at the beginning. it just would take too long. i'll sum up. i got sick when i was 16. didn't know it was bipolar 2 until i was 21. i have been on almost 20 different medications, had ECT, acupuncture, therapy, and NUMEROUS hospitalizations. I have used alcohol, drugs, shopping, sex, attention, food, and material things to try and deflect or numb the pain. I have tried to hide from it, deny i have it, run from it, ignore it, deal with it unsuccessfully, give up, and just lay down and die. after 17 years i still don't know what i'm doing and that scares me. it makes me sad. as i type this it makes me cry. a month and a half ago i had what i like to call my christmas epiphany. here's the background. i haven't worked in 8 years. i've been in hiding. i've been avoiding life basically just faking my way through it for 8 years. and not even really realizing that 8 years had gone by. i had shut down. i had completely turned off. i had no dreams, goals, hopes, aspirations. there was nothing i wanted. nothing i could see myself doing. i couldn't make any kind of decision at all. i couldn't order in restaurants let alone plan and execute my life. in 32 years on the planet and months and months in hospital wards i had never met another person with bipolar 2. i felt isolated, i felt alone. i kind of felt like maybe it was really rare and it was soooo much worse than bipolar 1. and i felt like the most broken useless person on the planet. unfortunately i often still feel like the most broken useless person on the planet but i am working on that. hopefully. and i had basically convinced myself that all my failures and the fact that i had dropped out of university 3 times and hadn't worked in almost a decade and barely left my house and was totally irresponsible was the bipolar's fault. i copped out. i blamed the illness. i know the illness didn't help, but i let it be my excuse. and a lot of people in my life let me let it be my excuse for a really long time. familiar with enablers??? i have them. i needed someone to kick me in the ass a long time ago. i know we need to take responsibility for ourselves, but when you are so young and dealing with this and trying to figure it out and people just keep letting you get away with shit time and time again.... anyhow. so at xmas i met someone with bipolar 2. someone i knew from a long time ago. and we had a great talk. and it wasn't even so much who he was, but just the fact that he was someone with my disease. i wasn't alone anymore. and he has a life. and a career. and a business. and friends. and....... excuse gone. in one moment my excuse was shattered. and the isolation was sorta gone. and the weird thing is since running into him i've met another girl with bipolar 2 as well. none for 32 years now 2 in a month and a half. anyhoo. excuse gone. a week later i tell my parents i'm looking for a job. they tell me to stay on disabilty because i'll make more money than at a crappy job and it'll be easier on me. WTF??!!! ok so now i see that my parents see me as completely broken and useless too. and then they compare me to a 60 year old man with a bad heart who can't walk 2 blocks and tell me not to be embarrassed about not working. WTF?! 60 year old heart patient? I ignored them and now have a part time job and am fixing up my house in a very small town to move in to a larger city. Soon after the job conversation my parents as well as a couple other people in my family felt the need to ask me in very condescending tones if I knew it was more expensive to live in a city than a small town. excuse me? and if i knew what rent was in said city. WTF. i'm 33 years old and they were talking to me like a 16 year old threatening to run away and live on her own. so broken, useless, and not able to take care of herself. soon after, the whole i'm 33 thing sank in (my bday is beginning of Feb). and soon after that, the 8 years on disability thing sank in. which turned into, OMG i wasted 8 years. which led to "if i don't figure this out i'm gonna waste 16 years and be stuck here when i'm 41 wondering where the hell my life went". so that string of events is what i called my xmas epiphany. it got me off my ass. i got a job. i'm still looking for another. it got me to finish renos on house and get it up for sale. it got me to go from 16 hours of sleep (or more) a day to 6-8. i get outta bed everyday and do things. my house is clean. and i have a plan and a goal again. yay! or i did. until sunday. when i crashed. on top of bipolar 2 i have rapid cycling and mixed states which makes me near impossible to medicate. lucky me. sunday i crashed. the mixed states started and i have been all over the map since. it's now wednesday. epiphany may have been mania. apparently hypo-mania can last that long. my first glimmer of hope in soooooo long and now i'm worried its gone. my theme for this year was hope. change. progress. balance. happiness. now i feel like i'm starting to drown again. part of my plan was to move halfway across the country once my house sells. i love my family and i thank them for all the shit they've gotten me out of, but i can't be around them anymore. not like this. if the hope is gone can i still do it? even with the hope gone i don't wanna be where i am now. i was so happy i was so excited i actually saw a future. i saw a way to get through this. to live with it. deal with it. aaaaaarrrrrggghhhhh. sometimes you just need to scream. i want more. i need more. i deserve more. i want it soooooo bad. i will not let this beat me. god if anyone out there ever reads this and you feel like you're drowning or being crushed or can't breathe or like it will never end pls just don't give up. it won't ever go away but we can deal. there is a way. i know there is. and if i can find it anyone can. if i figure it out i'll let you know.