Isn’t it said that “First comes pride, then the fall?” I feel like my life is quite the opposite. I’ve written a memoir, “There Comes A Light: A Memoir of Mental Illness,” and in it I fall – over and over again. I am mentally ill. I think irrationally. I make a fool of myself. I suffer.
And I took all that, all those moments that in the moment I didn’t think I could get through, and I assigned to them a sentence and a passage and a page and a book.
Until you have sat there and done it, you would not imagine the dedication it takes to write 72,000 words. I still can’t believe I did it.
Now people are telling me how proud of me they are, that I have written a book. It means a lot because for a long time I haven’t felt proud of much of my life. I am a proud blogger because of the readers’ comments and emails I get. But I am not who I used to be and that sometimes makes me sad.
I used to trust my mind completely. It never let me down. It kept me at the front of the race, the top of the pack. Until it didn’t anymore. Until I had a breakdown. Until I was hospitalized four times. I do not trust my mind anymore. That is the truth. I never know who I am going to wake up to be, or who I will be by nightfall. It is the nature of my illness; the nature of the beast.
But I did this thing, I wrote this book and showed all my flaws and scars and mistakes so that someone, somewhere will feel less alone. Sure, it will help family and friends to really understand me, but what of the 20-something in Wyoming who has just been diagnosed with Bipolar 1? I want this book, my book, to offer her hope. I want her to feel less alone. I want her to know that someone out there “gets it.”
So, maybe pride comes before the fall, but I am not your average gal. For me, the fall came first.
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