I hate being bipolar. It is awesome.

With each passing day, I become more and more aware of the internal functioning of my mind and body. 

MIND

Some days, I feel utterly in control of my thoughts, my feelings, and my life. I am perfectly capable of controlling how I react to circumstances, events, and people. Other days not so far  off (i.e. last week) I felt unable to control those same reactions. 

Some days I feel so organized. I make lists, check things off as they get done, make compromises for things I cannot do, make adjustments to my schedule with ease, and accept that some things must be put on hold for another day. Some things will never be done. And that's okay. I can keep track of my thoughts. My mind is not a jumble.

Those days I feel out of control, emotion takes over. Emotions become urges, impulses. Instead of being effortlessly proactive in controlling my responses, I become reactive to the impulses and do damage control. I have to exert a lot of energy trying to calm myself down so I can think rationally. 

In my ideal vision for the life of my mind, the better days would be more prevalent and the not so much better days would cease to exist, but I would keep the good things about me pre-treatment only modify them to fit my current lifestyle.

The hardest part of living through those days is when I start to question why I want to have control over my emotions. Have I lost a part of myself by taking medication? Does the medication truly work if the bad days still exist? The bad days aren't as torturous and destructive as they used to be. I don't contemplate suicide. I don't think the world would be better without me. I don't want the comfort of death because I know my mission and my life has purpose. 

I no longer question if my life has meaning, if humanity has a purpose, or what is the grand scheme of things. I no longer feel the need to question. The answers will be revealed. I do not participate in any religious ideology perse, but I firmly believe that a power greater than me has a plan, and questioning that plan wastes precious time I could spend just living the plan and having relevant pieces of the plan revealed when they need to be and when I am ready to know them.

When I was unmedicated - or self-medicating - there were good times between the mania and the depression. Times of lucidity that don't compare to where I am now, but were useful in their own right. I was more drawn to art, specifically the artists who suffered throughout their lives and had to cope with any number of different illnesses, diseases, or circumstances. I was more daring. Much more daring! But that's another chapter in and of itself. I think I'll call it "Confessions." Thank you, Usher.

But if you take away my ability to create these lists that keep me focused, organized, and in control which I - right or wrong - attribute to my medication, would I regress to my former mania and depression?

I am committed to only moving forward, never backward. Not again. My fear is that I have lost the good in who I was. I am starting to see her come back, slowly. I realize and accept this is my natural progression; the evolution of DAWN. I look forward. Not backward. Yet, I seek to rekindle the good from my youth and adjust it to fit my new, healthy vision for my life.

BODY

I have had so many insights through this period of not working full time achieving someone else's goals, and I have set new goals to which I will hold myself accountable and depend upon my family and friends for support. Yet another chapter. Stay tuned!

So many interesting things have come to pass since I have now had four months of self re-discovery. I am more mindful of my body's inner workings. I drink less alcohol because of the way it makes my body and mind feel. I never paid attention before. I only paid attention to the fallout the day after a binge in which I would feel tremendous guilt, self-loathing, and I would make promises to myself that I rarely kept. 

Sleep has been a key component to the improvement in my psyche which has led to a healthier appreciation and respect for my body. After countless months of insomnia, my doctor prescribed Ambien, which slows my thoughts to a point I can focus on one important thing at a time. It has allowed me to get organized, focused, and honest. I used to think I was an honest person. I have since learned that I was an ostrich; an escapist. 

The regimen of recovery prescribed by my chiropractic doctor has taught me to slow down physically and accomplish each task at hand and to be mindful of when I need to rest or treat my body more gently because everything can break if you put too much pressure on it. 

My self-image is undergoing its own, related evolution. This facet of me is still in progress and  will be elaborated in a future chapter.

I share this with you whether you suffer from a disease of the mind, whatever state you are in, and to our families. I hope to shed some light on the turmoil we can cause and promote empathy for all individuals involved. 

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, priest, yoga instructor, or a lawyer. My experiences are my own. Consult your own medical or spiritual guide to find a solution that will benefit your life.

A Mother's Memories to Her Child: My Birth

I recently reread a book my mom wrote for me. A Mother's Memories to Her Child. I gave it to her for Christmas in 2004. She gave it to me in 2010 after I had Maya. I am going to answer some of the questions from the book for Maya, and I will share the answers with you.

MY BIRTH
When and where I was born
June 1, 1978 - Hermann Hospital - Houston, TX

My parents named me
Dawn Marie Ambuehl

• Dawn for Dawn Osborne
• Marie for my mother
• Ambuehl for my father

My earliest memories
Getting my thumb slammed in a car door while helping my neighbor's mom put her son in his car seat. It was very painful, which is why it is my earliest memory.

Watching the rain on the windowpanes in the living room.

Waking up after nightmares and running to my parents room. Crawling in bed with my mom because she made me feel safe.

Getting teased on the playground because I didn't play like all the other kids. I wrote stories and drew pictures.

Getting choked by a boy as I tried to run away from him on the playground.

Watching a boy in my class get bullied by other boys.

Prank calling boys with my best friend while hiding in her closet buried beneath the clothes.

Birthday parties in the backyard. I'm a summer baby, so we always got to run around in our swimsuits. My mom made cakes for almost every one of my birthdays. She took a Wilton class to learn how to decorate them.

The Halloween costume parade at my elementary school. I was "Mary Had a Little Lamb," and the boy I had a crush on told me I looked pretty.

Trips to Florida to visit my grandma. She was my best friend.

Going antiquing with my Uncle Ed. He is still my favorite uncle.

Dancing in the living room with my mom and sister to the Beatles' "Strawberry Fields."

Fighting with my sister, and kneeling in the corner of the hallway until we apologized to each other.

Building houses, ships, and forts with pillows with my sister, and turning the fan on high to pretend we were in a storm.

My mom, my sister, and me getting sick with the flu and missing the Christmas play at my elementary school. My mom was so sick, she came into our room to wake us for school and just collapsed on our floor. My dad had to help us all get dressed.

Performing a dance to the Beastie Boys' "You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Party" in music class.

My first cat Sir John. He was pure white, very large, and liked to sit on the headboard of my mom's bed and swat at her hair. I adored him. I cried when he died, and my parents buried him in the back yard.