Not The Same
Looking back, I am not the same person as I was before I became ill. I am quieter. I am more reserved. I think these two characteristics are due to the fact that I don’t want people to know about the “crazy.” I literally want to keep it quiet and so I am. I use to be bubbly and fun and outgoing, not so much anymore. My therapist says she sees it, that she saw it when I was talking to some kids in the waiting room. I told her that that wasn’t real, just a front I put on, that smile I’ve had all my life to hide anything that is wrong. Now so much is wrong that that fake permasmile comes out a lot. But I miss the real, true happiness I used to feel. Don’t get me wrong, I know happy, like running down the street with no shirt to the park and falling to the ground to gaze at the stars. But that is NOT normal. I used to be the life of the party. I used to be beautiful. I used to be thinner. I used to be a flirt, a magnet for men. Now I am the first date, only date queen. I just miss being ElainaJ circa 2005. I was mostly well then. Things were fun. Light. I could work and I did, hard. But mental illness changes you and your life and the only thing you can do is try to adapt. You learn to be this new person and that isn’t a bad thing, it is just a different thing. You are allowed to grieve who you were and what you are and what you were capable of, but there will come a time you have to pull your shit together and get back to living this wonderfully insane thing called life.
Martin, E. (2018). Not The Same. Psych Central. Retrieved on February 21, 2018, from https://blogs.psychcentral.com/being-bipolar/2018/01/27/not-the-same/