The impossible can never be achieved or it would be possible. It is an oxymoron to achieve the impossible. I prefer the saying – Where there’s a will there’s a way. My dad used to say things like that all the time. I called them Bobisms. My Dad (Bob) is the head of the family. Most holidays are hosted by my parents where my aunts and uncle in Socal usually attend. I used to schlep my kids from Vegas for some holidays. My mom hates hosting but she loves it at the same time. I always got stuck in the kitchen helping her. I used to complain about it because I remember that my sister rarely helped. But I rarely complained out loud. Mostly in my head. I wonder how long I’ve been having conversations with myself. Is this normal? Is it really just high anxiety? I was afraid to even admit to the psychiatrist that I was hearing things. When I admitted it the first time I was told it was due to high anxiety and given Paxil and Abilify. I think I quit taking the pills after a short while because they weren’t working. I didn’t even admit that I heard things to the next two doctors. I tried a bunch of different anti-depressants. I tried increasing dosages of anxiety meds and then different anxiety meds. I went to at least another couple of shrinks over the years until finally one of them said I was showing signs of being bi-polar and prescribed Serequel. I don’t even remember which psychiatrist – that’s how many I’ve been to. Where there’s a will there’s a way. I truly wanted to be better than I was. I knew even then that something was wrong with me. I went to Doctor after Doctor. I tried pill after pill. Then Serequel worked. It hits you like a fuckin truck at night but it worked on me. It stabilized my mood swings and I wasn’t hearing things anymore. Later, my medication was changed to Latuda which I have to take in conjunction with a mood stabilizer called Depacote.
Bi-polar disorder is a chemical imbalance in the brain that can only be treated with medication and therapy. The medication itself is not enough. I must learn better coping skills and apply them when I am triggered or in emotional distress. I also had to learn radical acceptance. It is what it is. Another Bobism. He used that one often. Anyone that has not been to therapy – I strongly recommend it. I knew I was fucked up but I had no idea how deep my scars were until I was in this outpatient therapy program. There is an actual curriculum. They educate you on your illness, teach coping skills, help you see how your core beliefs about yourself can be completely wrong. There is evidence against our negative view of ourselves – we just have to retrain the brain. Where there’s a will there’s a way. We have to learn to counter each negative with a positive. First, I had to admit that I was fucked up in some way. Most people can’t do this. I know it’s hard. It’s much easier to do what I have done for my entire adulthood. Throw myself into work or booze and drugs to not face my issues. I can’t just get over it as my bitchy little sister so eloquently told me. Bi-polar disorder is a flaw in chemistry in the brain. There are studies that show that bi-polar disorder is genetic. This wouldn’t surprise me. Not one bit. You guys haven’t met my mother and my aunts.
Staying on meds was the only way to keep things under control. In earlier years, after a while, I’d just get lazy and forget or feel better and think I’m cured. No, it doesn’t work that way Tash So I fucked up by not listening to doctors earlier on. Apparently, recreational drugs and alcohol prevent your meds from working properly. Who knew? I also apparently have selective hearing. What an asshole right? Accept responsibility Tasha. Well I do. I accept full responsibility for not doing what I was prescribed to do. Partying felt better. I’d done it for a long time. It started with my aunts and my mom. Picture that…. Here’s the straw auntie its your turn. Isn’t that a great learned behavior? No. I now take my meds daily as prescribed and I am 17 days sober. Which isn’t long but where there’s a will there’s a way.
So here I am. Current situation: Over $3000 in warrants, suspended driver’s license, no car and I live in a weekly hotel. My roommates are a married lesbian couple and their 18-year-old gay son Tre D. Yes. I live in a house of homosexuals. Both of my roommates’ sons are gay; however, one lives in Cali with his dad. (Tee jokingly claims to have a tainted womb that produces only homosexuals.) Tre’s room is literally our living room. He sleeps on the couch and goes to bed at like 630 like a grandpa. Turns off all the lights too! No bullshit. I spend most of my time in my room. Which is another reason I figured writing was a good outlet for me. This house is comical and provides a lot of inspiration. Tee is my best friend. I met her in the mental hospital. She suffers from Bi-polar disorder, Borderline personality disorder, anxiety and anger issues. She has the greatest stories of the many ass whippings she’s handed out. She literally had her wife take the stroller of this woman that she proceeded to pound into the pavement. That’s my bestie. In her defense, she has gotten into zero fights since we started outpatient therapy and is staying on her meds and doing fabulous. I have bi-polar disorder, social anxiety at times and PTSD. Her wife Dee is my other roommate. Dee is intelligent and chill and is also bi-polar. Thank goodness she is chill because she has a house with two other bi-polar women.
How did I get here? Shit I ask myself the same damn question. That’s a blog for another day. You can only dwell on the past so much. The better question is how do I change it? You have to change the situation if you are unhappy. You can sit and mope about how shitty it is or make a plan and change it. I’m great at the planning portion. Even the doing part…..for a while. My follow through is not the greatest. I’m not sure if that’s a self-esteem issue or not. I am working on it though. My goals are to pay off my warrants for traffic citations, then get my driver’s license reinstated and save for a car. That will make it easier to see my kids. Everything is for those girls. That is all I focus on now. I didn’t like rock bottom and I don’t want to ever be there again. I want to be the kind of person my daughters can look up to. Have I stopped being that person? Because I spent 3 years falling to rock bottom? Can I really achieve my goals? I have to. There is no other option. Where there’s a will there’s a way. How about that for a learned behavior?