Turning 40 last month was really tough for me. I kept thinking about my 30th birthday and how so much has changed in 10 years. Back then, I met my goal of finishing college by the age of 30, I was preparing to move to Ohio for grad school, I had published some (admittedly immature, early) pieces in Babaylan: An Anthology of Filipina and Filipina-American Writers
Instead, I’m on disability and can barely leave my apartment on my own. Ten years later and it feels that opportunities and possibilities are now closed to me because of this stupid bipolarness. My pdoc says this isn’t true, that I have at least 35 years of life ahead of me and plenty of things open to me in that time. It’s hard to see it that way when it’s difficult for me to just make simple commitments to meet someone for lunch or dinner or make plans with Brian or even a doctor’s appointment because I’m never sure how I’m going to feel when that day arrives and may end up having to cancel or reschedule. True, I’m not sure that I want to teach again — certainly I’m through with adjuncting! Though my therapist and pdoc tell me that I’m not ready to hold down any sort of a job so there’s no use stewing over career choices right now. I know they mean that I should concentrate on getting better first.
And I have been for 2 years now, but whenever I make progress, something happens (I force myself to progress too quickly or circumstances outside my control occur) and I end up where I started. This time around, I’ve been moving very slowly so my progress continues and I don’t crash. Of course I’d much rather be farther along in my recovery but I’ve finally learned to be patient.
Something that’s been difficult for me to swallow is accepting my limitations. For example, I’ve gained a good 10 to 15 lbs. since last summer and honestly, I don’t feel like taking the steps to do much about it. I’ve recently bought new clothes because I’ve gone up a size or two. On the other hand, Brian pointed out that I’m less likely to go out if I have nothing to wear that fits me, and he’s right. Anyway, that’s the biggest limitation I can think of.
Too, I haven’t been in regular therapy since I switched therapists 2 years ago. My original therapist was cutting her practice to part-time, and I needed to see someone whose office is much closer. I liked the new therapist OK, but in my opinion we never really clicked. Then I read a magazine article an acquaintance wrote about Winston Churchill and how the author manages his own bipolarness: takes his meds, goes to therapy, and exercises regularly (see here). I take my meds as prescribed, but it occurred to me that I wasn’t going to therapy regularly. It’s kind of a long story, but going to see the new therapist made me so anxious that on appointment days I’d get physically ill (headaches, stomachaches, vomiting) and would end up canceling. Never mind the exercise part!
I realized that in order for me to get better, and maybe open up or at least see the opportunities and possibilities before me, I need to be back in therapy. Fortunately, my former therapist will begin full-time practice again this month and has agreed to see me again. I still have to make the appointment. 
Anyway, once I’m in therapy, then I can think about and consider how I’m going to get back to working out (or accepting my body the way it is), hopefully playing hockey again, and generally move forward. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to figure out where my priorities should lie.
Though I’m not the success I pictured myself to be 10 years ago, I do have to say that I am fortunate. I never would have thought that I’d meet someone as loving and supportive as Brian, and despite “everything that’s wrong with my life,” I’m happy that he’s a part of it.
I know how difficult it is to have your life so drastically changed by bipolar disorder. In my case, my dx at 45 made my life better because I was able to begin to learn how to deal with what I’d been going through my whole life. My breakdown was in my 30′s and I thought life would never get better, but then at 40 I escaped with my girls from a heinously abusive husband. Now at 50 I’ve found an amazing man. But I’m still unstable, I still fight with my weight, I’m still not able to go back to school let alone back to being an office manager. So like you, I’m nowhere near where I ever thought I’d be, but I manage to at least see how fortunate I am in other aspects of my life. I’m hoping that if I stay on track the way I’ve been going that 60 will be fantastic.
I was diagnosed at 24, thankfully, before I ended up exploding or something. What makes this current period of time so difficult is knowing that I THRIVED while managing life with bipolar disorder in the past. Many medications and ECT sessions later, it’s hard to accept how comparatively low-functioning I’ve become, though that’s improving. The ECT (2006-2007) worked for a while, but then, like most of my meds, stopped working. It’s possible I may have ECT again in the future, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I won’t have to.
Congratulations on having the strength to leave your husband and finding someone you’re happy being with. After I was diagnosed I made a lot of changes in my life and clearly, I need to continue to make more. I admire your optimism and your ability to see how fortunate you are — that vision is what I hope to get back once I start seeing my therapist again.
My hope for you is that you can regain your stability to the point where you can regain some of your independence – and then you’ll see the path you’re meant to be on. You were gifted with this great creative energy, and that type of energy does need to be indulged or it will continue to nudge you until you do. You are incredibly lucky to have Brian. I know a woman (a friend of a friend) who is also on disability, struggles with BPD, is recently divorced, and has 3 kids to care for. She’s got a great sense of humor, and seems to have a nice supportive boyfriend these days, but I also see how being dependent seems to drain her spirit. Be strong. Keep fighting. You’ll get there, one day at a time.
baby steps, barb.
and you do need to get your priorities straight… you need to get ice cream with me! 
mamazilla´s last blog ..will dance for jollibee!
@Amy, yes! I so want my independence back! The problem is that I want it NOW. Obviously things haven’t worked for me when I tried to make them happen NOW so I’ve slowed down my progress. As long as I see progress, that’ll have to be good enough. You knew me when I was independent (with that nice but deadbeat Jay as a DEpendent) so it really means a lot to hear this from you. You also knew me when I was out of control — remember that time you and Joe (was it?) were over and we ended up in the E.R. because of a lame suicide attempt I made? I think I threw Jay’s shoes out the window instead of myself!
Well, at least I haven’t felt suicidal in years so that’s progress, too.
Speaking of stability, would you believe that Skull Bovis was the longest job I’ve ever had, to this day? Thanks, too, for reminding me of my creative energy. I’ve been trying to do some writing and although I did well with the poetry thing in April, I’m kind of stumbling right now but that’s fodder for another post.
@mamazilla, baby steps, indeed! I’m working on getting my priorities straight, believe me! Ice cream, however, may not be such a good idea (again, fodder for another post), but I think it’d be OK if I had ice cream with another person and not eat it alone. Never mind….
I don’t have bipolar so I don’t know what it’s like for you. But I do admire you for being so open and honest about it. It’s nice that, because of people like you, things like bipolar or depression are getting the attention they need. Keep being brave.
The biggest limitation I have trouble accepting is that I’m not the extremely independent person I used to be. Drives me crazy that I can’t live on my own.
As you’re taking those baby steps…if you ever want to get out for some coffee, you know where to contact me.
Sid´s last blog ..Denial or just wishful thinking?
@heather, some people think what I blog about is too much information, but you’re spot on — I’m trying, in my own small way, to help fight the stigma against mental illness. Thanks!
@Sid, it drives me crazy, too. The fact that I can’t hold down a job; what the hell did I put myself through school for then, you know? Definitely hard to accept.