As opposed to the merely existing, that is. I had my first appointment with my new/former therapist. I was anxious, mainly about taking the El to get there. I was tempted to drive, but I didn’t. I was afraid I’d be late, but I wasn’t. I survived transferring to the subway from the El and riding in cars more crowded than my last El trip. I survived exiting on the wrong corner when I climbed outside from the underground. I had no panic attacks and didn’t take an extra Klonopin. I got exercise from walking to and from the train station.

We had to catch up on the past 2 years since I saw her last — my mental and physical health. More importantly, we discussed my therapeutic goals, which include going to therapy and not canceling at the last minute, even if it means showing up with only 5 minutes left of my session. I just need to show up. Similarly, I’d like to work on keeping my other commitments in order to take the larger steps of taking a class, going back to martial arts, and most definitely playing hockey. When you’re the goalie, you have to be there.

Other goals I have that I haven’t yet addressed here include feeling comfortable with my weight, whether I remain at my current weight or choose to lose 25 lbs. As long as I’m in good cardio shape, which I’m so NOT, I want to feel good about not just my body image but my self-image. Part of that includes accepting the IBS and other health issues I have, like the uterine fibroid and my food addiction/abuse. I also want my independence back — driving myself to my own appointments and eventually, driving on the expressway. I want to start writing again and sending my work out. Most of all (and I forgot to mention this to her), because I’ve been dealing with this bipolarness for 15 years, I’ve come to define myself as bipolar, period, rather than seeing myself as a person who happens to have bipolar disorder.

Many of you already know that Brian and I took an extra long weekend for a vacation in Columbus, OH. No, Columbus isn’t New York or San Francisco, but it’s where we met and fell in love 10 years ago. We’re also huge Buckeyes fans and had tickets to the opening game, which happened to fall on Brian’s birthday. I got to meet a fellow Buckeye fan and blog friend, Heather, for the first time, and we had a blast. Pictures and more vacation highlights to follow in an upcoming post.

Brian and I haven’t taken a vacation, not counting visiting family, since the last time we went to a game. That was September 4, 2004 — 5 years ago — when we watched Ohio State beat Cincinnati. We may have gone to 1 or 2 other games since I graduated in 2002, but we’ve never been anywhere else because we didn’t have a honeymoon.

Money isn’t necessarily the reason we haven’t done more traveling. My depression is. This recent trip has been planned since June or July and when we made the decision, I was worried that we’d have to cancel at the last minute because I would feel too depressed to go anywhere. Not knowing how you feel from day to day is frustrating. However, I resolved that I would go no matter what. I showed up to celebrate Mother’s Day for my mom here in Chicago, even though I hadn’t once showered the previous 2 weeks. I don’t think she cared about that; I think she was just happy I was there. And that’s what counts — that I showed up. Since then I’ve been doing pretty good about keeping my commitments, but I’ve stumbled a few times.

Still, going out of town is more complicated. Not only is there the depression to contend with, but there’s the IBS. Medication helps me to be regular, but sometimes I have accidents. This is embarrassing, discouraging, and anxiety-inducing. Not only that, anxiety can induce the lack of control. For me, it increases my depression and self-loathing. It’s reached the point where I’m sometimes afraid to leave the apartment. Most days I won’t go anywhere until after I’ve had a BM because I don’t like going in public places. Also, I absolutely hate having to depend on Depends when I’m neither potty training nor super-elderly. I’ve accepted that diapers are sometimes a necessary thing, but I don’t like it.

This trip was not without some accidents. I tried really hard not to let it discourage me, but each day was jam-packed with activity, all of which was stressful — not bad stress, but stress just the same. The night before we left was the worst, and because we didn’t pack enough diapers (sounds silly since we don’t have kids), Brian had to find a pharmacy that was open 24 hours and drive there at 3 in the morning. Columbus doesn’t have a Walgreens on just about every corner like Chicago does. I was practically in tears from the pain and the worry about the trip home, but it turned out fine. Still, having to deal with this is tough.

But we had a great time, which is the important thing. I got out of bed every day and did stuff and had lots of fun. I’m proud of myself for going to the game and for keeping our dinner date with Heather and her husband, despite my last-minute anxiety. I wish we could have stayed a little longer, but I’m glad that I got through it all, the good and the bad, and that we’re home.