Confession 3: 10 Post Diagnostic

I've shared some very crucial parts of how my story began. I've shown those deep moments of anger, vulnerability, loss. And much of this in the name of defense - to once and for all defend my sanity. But I think, as I turn these pieces over in the cool light of morning, that I can't tell the whole picture reveals some strangeness, some caverns of instability that I may have become to intimate with. I guess what I am saying now is I see how these moments - taken merely on their own - show me how deeply lost I was back then. And how even now I feel a see saw of good and bad times that can make sometimes for a rocky day to day - and that is all the while with all my experience white knuckling this current experience to maintain stability.

I won't say I'm bipolar. That is a defeatist term to me, when speaking of myself. That is a confinement just as the hospital is a confining space. I will say. There are times when the lense of bipolar can be a helpful tool. The world is full of tools though. Tools include yoga, reading, resting, eating nutritiously, counseling, painting. There are so many tools. And I would say the way the the term bipolar has been used against me has been primarily in a bastardized form.

That feels good to say, admit, consider.