I was reading some memes and quotes on Pinterest because that’s what I do, when I see Pete Wentz talking about Mental Illness. What he was quoted as saying sounded ok. Everyone is different and needs to find their own path. Then whoever got the quote puts underneath “Pete Wentz discussing his path to recovery”.
He wasn’t in rehab, he didn’t have the flu, he’s Bipolar. As far as I know Bipolar Disorder is a lifetime commitment. There really is no “path to recovery”. You can have better days than you were having. Try to manage it and so on. But you will not recover from it. Unless you have the part of your brain where it lives or comes from (right frontal lobe?) cut out. Even then no scientist or doctor will guarantee it’s gone. You could maybe be in remission? My Psychiatrist, when he remembers, puts that I’m “in remission from alcohol abuse”. He’s right. When you are an alcoholic you are always an alcoholic. You have just chosen to not drink and hope and work at continuing with that choice.
I like looking at it that way. One of the biggest reasons people fail in sobriety is the shame of “falling off the wagon”. They don’t want to go back to their group after, their family, jobs, anyone that is going to judge them and make them feel worse than they already do.
So what happens? They continue to drink to forget. They do this until enough time has gone by to try again, they are put in jail or die.
I fell off the wagon at least 20 times. I was lucky enough to have parents that were not going to give up. They put money away for my funeral but they WERE NOT giving up! lol Sorry. It’s true. It went towards my mom’s funeral who never got to see me sober for more than a few months at a time. She knows I know she does.
Shopping sprees are this Bipolar person’s favorite thing. I have learned to control them to some extent. It’s almost a good thing that my physical health hasn’t been that great over the last few years. I now lose time in a store and I’m slow as a snail. Every shiny object grabs my attention and distracts me from what I’m doing. I’m now in a size where I can wear just about any fashionable thing out there and I get too distracted or have a panic attack because the 10th woman over 65 has hit me with her shopping cart in the back of my knees or heels. Ugghh!!! There are no “Sorries” ever!!! Why?? And sometimes I apologize to them and I don’t even have a friggin’ cart!
I also have no one to go clothes shopping with me. I’m not exaggerating. My sister won’t go because I weigh less than her now. It was ok when I was a size 20 and had to watch her pick out a prom dress when I wasn’t going. Or watch her try on hundreds of wedding dresses when I was pushing a size 22. No, I didn’t have a choice. My mother’s lung cancer was in remission and I was in the wedding. You suck it up and do what you have to while swallowing down every comment.
My “best friend” hardly ever calls me back and hates shopping. The other friend I have is morbidly obese, has had 3 heart surgeries, and always asks for Adderall. All I want to know is if I have a camel toe or if the pants look right!! I always wore shirts that went to my knees. I’ve never shown my ass before! So I have to ask strangers that look fashionable if something looks ok without telling them what I really mean. Most are nice about it. I act less intelligent than I am and like I’m going to cry. It works better that way. Actually it’s how I act all the time. A defense mechanism. I just realized I did that. I think I’ll throw up now.
The Blond is me at close to my highest weight 260/270 and drunk. The red head is me now, sober for over 6 and a half years so far. That may change after listening to Donald Trump talking on CNN. JUST KIDDING!