acceptance?

I am bipolar: it does not exist without me and I do not exist without it.  I was diagnosed the summer of 2007, and it did not occur to me, that we are inseparable until lately, 14 years later.   Bipolar and other mental illnesses have wreaked havoc on my life and self perception.  My current struggle is to find meaning in the debilitating and constant ebbs of my mood states.

Often times I feel less than a person and more of a burden that has to be carried by others.    And I’m having trouble fighting that notion.    Be it in my absences at work, my inability to manage household chores, my inability to be a good partner. or my current desire to sleep constantly.

But I am a person, even on days I don’t want to be and on days when my illness prevents me from being a supportive partner or friend.   This fact haunts me.   There is nothing I desire more than to be thoughtful and caring of those around me, and to fall short, which I regularly do, decimates me.

This is where I should insert self compassion.   That is a tool I haven’t mastered yet.  But it is a work in progress.   I am tentatively learning to speak my mind and am slowly starting to see the value in my contributions.   There is a glint of hope building, but I don’t trust it or myself enough yet.