The Support Squad

Last Monday at 11:55pm, I laid in bed with bad thoughts racing through my mind.  I told myself I would wait until midnight to wake up my husband before taking myself to the Emergency Department for help and safety.  I could not wait any longer so at 11:57pm, I woke him up.  I said, “I need you to wake up because I am 3 minutes away from taking myself to get professional help at the hospital”.  So with that, he rolled over and turned the light on.

We talked until 3am at which point, we turned the lights off and both tried to get a little bit of sleep.  The next day we both dragged ourselves to work knowing full well that it was going to be a very long day.  But we both did it because we would rather be at work than at a hospital. 

I would be lying to you if I told you this was the first time this happened.  But I can tell you that I am still here to write about it today because of the people in my life who have gotten me through the worst times.  So who is my Support Squad you may ask?  It is the different people that the universe puts into my life to help me get through each episode.    

So for me, it is first and foremost my husband.  When I tell you we have been to hell and back, I mean it.

It is also my mom who drove 85 mph in a 25mph zone just to make sure she could get home in time so I didn’t take the pills I had in my hand. 

It is my friend who walked with me for miles around my development just to better understand what it meant for me to have Bipolar Disorder. 

It is my brother who lived with me for a month when I could not get myself out of bed every day. 

It is my therapist who sees me every other week… for 9 years now. 

It is my psychiatrist who listens to my stories and prescribes me the right cocktail of medicine to help me battle this horrible illness. 

It is the doctors and nurses at the hospitals I have been to for weekly stays (much to my dismay) who have given me hope to go back home and try all over again to live with this illness. 

It is my girlfriend who said, “Stacy, here is the blog platform…now write.  Share your story.” 

My list of people in my Support Squad goes on and on.  Does yours?  

At about 11:50am on the evening I mentioned above, my brain was deep in a dark hole and suddenly, one may say out of nowhere, I caught a glimpse of my daughter’s high school graduation.  I saw her walking across that stage to get her diploma and looking at me in the audience and smiling.  And this is why I did not wait until midnight to wake up my husband.  I knew if I waited, I may not see that special moment in my daughter’s life, say 12 years from now. 

 

Having the right people in your corner is vital to getting through the worst of life’s battles.  And for me, it is everything.  Who are you blessed with in your world?  I pray today that the universe gives you people along your path of life who are your very own Support Squad. 

 

 Love Note:  With all my heart, I genuinely request that due to the content written, please seek the guidance of professional help should you feel you need it.

A Horrible Week

 

We could beat around the bush and say that it has been a decent week or an okay week.  We could brush it off and chalk it up to the weather being 55 degrees in the middle of the winter.  Or we can call it what it was and call it "horrible". 

I have had a migraine all week.  I have been totally stressed out at work.  I am completely exhausted and not sleeping and when I do sleep I am not sleeping well at all.  And my daughter loves her father more than she loves me.  How do I know this you may ask?  Because this week, she told me she did. 

When I tell you that every single day this week I laid in bed thinking of different ways to end my life, I am not lying to you.  That is how seriously scary this week has been for me.  But I am not telling you that for you to throw me into the hospital.  I am tell you that to show you my strength.  Because I am still here to talk about it and I got through the…hopefully…worst of it.  It is Friday, is it not? 

I went to counseling this week and he said, “celebrate the little things in life”.  Which at the time seemed annoying to me and I wanted to punch my counselor in the face.  How could you tell me to celebrate when I feel so lousy? 

But honestly how can you not celebrate your life when we are at rock bottom but you chose to get up every day.  You chose to take your medications and take them on time.  You chose to snuggle with the cat instead of making that alcoholic beverage.  And you chose to put your high heels on when all you want to do is turn off your alarm and throw the blankets over your head.  

So, my friends, another week is over and I am still here to talk about it.  Some of my major projects are coming to a close and that helps the stress.  My migraine medications have finally arrived at the pharmacy (it only took 4 days) so I can get some relief tonight.  And even though my daughter loves her daddy more than she loves me, I will take it with a grain of salt because I know she plays favorites. 

Every time I see that little twinkle in my daughters eye, I am reminded of how blessed I am.  Blessings mean nothing unless you can see them and feel them and understand them and know them in your heart.  And when things get dark, you do not see the light on the path.  But being that I am living proof of it, I will tell you, that if you put your high heels on every day, one day at a time, maybe just maybe the light will start trickling in again. 

 

 Love Note:  With all my heart, I genuinely request that due to the content written, please seek the guidance of professional help should you feel you need it.

The Struggle is Real

Yesterday my husband said, “are you still blogging?” to which I replied, “does anyone care if I do?” and he stated, “yes, I do”.  So this post is for him. 

Recently I have been working on a project at work.  Not just any project but a population analysis, with market share and volume projections for 5 years.  This project is a beast.  And to be quite frank with you, I treated it like one too.  I figured it would eat me, chew me up and then swallow me down into its belly just like any other beast you would find in a scary movie. 

The other night before bed, my daughter and I were reading a fairy tale that had a monster in it.  She looked at me when the book was over and said, “mommy, I have never seen a monster before”.  I replied with confidence, “and you never will my darling”.  If my life were the fairy tale, this project is certainly the monster. 

So what does this have to do with having bipolar?  Well, let me tell you… my mental illness plays games with me.  And mainly what I mean by that is that it takes my confidence away.  I spent an entire day staring at my step by step process to which I needed to follow in order to accomplish this projection.  Then I spent an hour with my boss going over the project guidelines in great detail.  Then I spent the following day floundering around in and out of reports and report writing software. 

When I tell you I felt defeated, I mean it.  On Tuesday I called my husband and cried frantically telling him I was going to quit my job.  On Wednesday, I wore flats…I just didn’t feel like my high heels were appropriate for a failure.  By Wednesday night, I was lying awake in my bed trying desperately to fall asleep when a sense of peace and calm came over me.  In that moment, I reached out to the universe for help. 

My girlfriend at work always prays to “baby Jesus” so I thought I might give it a try.  “Dear Baby Jesus, I need your help with this project.  Please help me.  Amen.”  And I drifted off to sleep.  The next day I put on what my husband calls my “power heels” (a red pair of high high heel shoes) and I set off to work. 

I deleted the file that I had started over the past week with all the documents in it that I had begun to work on.  And I opened a new folder and I started fresh from scratch.  I pulled the data from the different databases and I did it MY WAY.  I did it the Stacy way… one excel tab at a time.  I built the entire document from scratch and 12 tabs later, I ended my progress with an Executive Summary. 

But that of course was not the end of it.  I had to present my data to my boss the following day.  So Friday, I put on another pair of high heels and I set up a meeting with my boss at 11:00am.  We sat in a conference room with a large computer screen where we went through each tab all the way to the Executive Summary. 

45 minutes later, my boss looked at me and I said, “I made this project my own.  And I worked really hard on it and I am pleased.  I know I still have work to do but its mine and I am proud of it”.  He looked at me and said, “THIS is what we DO.  And YOU did it.  Great job.”  Now, if you know my boss you know that you are hard-pressed for a compliment from him.  So when I tell you I was on top of the world, I was glowing. 

So my friends, drop the microphone, project (almost- with a few more tweaks) complete with the bosses stamp of approval.  Yes, the struggle is real but the success after a war with myself is even more real. 

Whether you talk to Baby Jesus, reach out to the Universe or pray to the Lord for guidance, I recommend this for sure.  For me, it gave me a peace and confidence that I had not experienced until that time.  And sometimes you just have to walk away from it and start over.  But just knowing that I had cheerleaders (friends, family, my one co-worker) on my side cheering for me the whole time also gave me the support I needed to get through this project. 

So put on your “power heels” and lets do this.  Lets tackle life, one project at a time. 

 

Love Note:  With all my heart, I genuinely request that due to the content written, please seek the guidance of professional help should you feel you need it.