I went to see a Psychiatrist last week. Apparently, a good one. The appointment went for one hour. I wept for most of it. The logical, aware and conscious part of my brain has been noticing changes lately. I have been changing. The image of 'going downhill' is apt... I have been watching myself as if watching someone else.. with fascination and nowhere near enough compassion.
Nearly half my life ago I was told that I had Bipolar Disorder. It was also the second diagnosis and the third. It's a heavy label to carry. I didn't realise it was as tough as it is until now and exhaustion has slowed me to the point where I am writing... so not such a bad thing. The Bipolar Disorder has affected the way I have been treated, my employment, my relationships, my health and the way I have viewed myself. It has felt like a life sentence of symptoms I will never be free of.
This week, though - it was taken away and replaced, officially, with chronic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I feel as though I have been given a life back. My life. I just don't know what to do with it yet.. or first.
Knowing what this is - these feelings of decline - I thought they might abate.. but the symptoms continue. They even dig a little deeper as though they know they are weeds and will soon be dug out. They terrors want to hurt as much as they can on the way out. The pain of this discourages rebellion... my spirit and I have a low pain thresh-hold at the moment.
So yes, I feel delicate today and positive that I will feel positive about feeling positive in the very near future. Should it be the will of any God at all... :)