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Broken Radio Dial

Being understood is on my top ten list of desires.  I’d imagine it’s pretty high on everyone’s list but for those suffering from an illness which carries so much stigma, being understood can save a life.  I’m talking about being understood by the people that I do life with.  Trying to describe what’s going on, even to people that accept me, is difficult enough as it is. I want to be understood on a level where the stigma melts away, that someone might know me for me and not for my behaviors. 

The Balance Button

It's about balance, isn't it? It's about exertion and then rest, it's about give and then take, it's about yes and then no. But the problem is I don't have the "balance" button. I have bipolar 2. 

Of course, it's difficult to draw the line between the symptoms of this condition and my own unique personality traits. I don't know where that line is actually. It's just so fuzzy. I do know, however, that most people aren't like me. Most people have that ability to self-regulate. I don't. Do you? 

The Importance of Strong Toes

My baby is almost a year old now and I’m still unstable. 

This statement confuses my family and friends because on the outside, I seem like myself again – I shower and wear make-up on a regular basis, my sense of humor is back and I’ve gone back to work. I’m functioning in my usual Type A manner.

On the inside, I feel like I’m walking a highwire. 

Some days, I wake up wobbly, but I have my balance pole handy. The elements still effect me – the sun can burn me, the rain can soak me, the cold can still enter my bones – but I manage.