Who Am I? Does Anyone Really Know

Who am I? Sometimes I really wonder about that. Just who am I really?

Well, I know I am a wife, a mother, a grandmother, and a furry nana. But just exactly what does that mean?

I have no idea. The only thing is that I know I love my family with all my heart and I would do anything for them. Sometimes that means doing things that aren't exactly what I would like to do, but I do them.

So as I sit here once again I have celebrated another birthday without my parents, and without some who are so dear to me. It never gets easier. Not one bit. But it is the way life is, and there is nothing I can do about that.

All I do know is that I wish things were different. I wish my Mama and Daddy were here to call and say "Happy Birthday baby." But no they aren't. If you can hug your parents, then you should do that. I know not all relationships are perfect. Still, it is your parents. Tell your family how much you love them. Because just like a blink of the eye, they could be gone.

To the world I say spend time with your family, tell your loved ones how you feel, live each moment of each day as if there is no tomorrow, and have no regrets. Life is just a fleeting moment in this universe.

Life is such a strange thing. It is difficult to deal with at times and it is unbearable at times. Don't get me wrong I am so happy to have a life that is worth living and I am grateful for all I have. But there is so much about life that I wish was different. I know we can't change the way things are because no matter how much we would like to, it is impossible to make other people feel thing they don't want to feel.

As to the question of who I am; I am me and with that people have to accept that I am Bipolar, There are many, sadly, in this world that think this is just something that is made up. That Bipolar disorder is just a way of getting people to pay attention to us and a way to draw pity from the rest of the world. Haha, that is still so ironically funny to me. Because who in the world would want to be Bipolar, seriously? Why on earth would anyone use that as a way to get attention or make people feel sorry for them.

It took me so many years just to accept this in myself and to those who think it is bull, I wish you knew what it felt like to live inside my head for just a few minutes. Being bipolar is not easy by no means. It is a difficult thing that must be dealt with every second of every day. It is not something you can turn off or put away when you don't want to deal with it.

This is something that I must concentrate on every second of my life. If I forget just a moment then my mind swirls out of control. So you see this is me. That is who I am. If you can't deal with it, there is nothing I can do about that. It is your choice.

Back to who I am, well I guess it means I am just me. That is all. I am the best me I know how to be.

It means that when there is that person who has decided they do not want me in their lives, even though it kills my soul I do as they wish. Sure there are those who don't understand that. But when a person has chosen to hate and throw you away, well there really isn't much you can do. You can not force a person to love you, no matter how much you desire that result.

Who Am I? A Child That Grew Up In the 60's in an Ozarks Small Town

Growing up in the 60’s was something out of a movie. It was more “Leave it to Beaver” than anything. But then my life took an outside corner. I was diagnosed “manic depressive” at five years of age. Diagnosed at a time when the term bi-polar was not a common name. This diagnosis came into my life long before it was popular to be bipolar.

It most definitely was not popular, and to some degree, I think my parents were embarrassed that I wasn’t perfect. As they put “like my brother.” But it would become part of me, and I would have to come to terms with that.

How do you come to terms with something like this when you are only 5? All I knew for sure was I was told not to say anything to anyone about it, and they wanted me to “get over it” so I could move on.

Obviously, I did not nor could I just get over it. Bipolar is who I am.

Hiding this within me became second nature. Still, I remember the nights of fear when I would have manic episodes and no one to help me through them. I am not condemning my parents, this was a strange thing, and they had no idea what to do. They both were of the period when you got over your ‘illnesses, ’ and they only wanted for me to move on.

Those dark nights when I could hear my heart beat so loud, it felt as if the entire world could hear the pounding that I heard. It was a severe pounding, and I felt as if I would die if I closed my eyes. So night after night when that pounding began and I feared not just death, but absolutely everything, all I could think was that I was not normal.

Not feeling healthy is a horrible thing for a child. And my greatest wish was not to be a problem to my parents.

The mania ran all over me at times. Even to the point, I would get my school pictures, and as the whole class exchanged photos, I would participate only to run around later begging for them back.
It was a tough time living a life that I didn’t understand and having no one to explain anything to me.

I only desired to “get over it, ” and it felt as if it got worse every day. I would be many years before I understood anything.

I hope you will go on this journey with me as I describe what it was like to be bipolar long before anyone talked about it. Hopefully, my story will help at least one person to realize they are not alone.

So welcome, to this story of me. I am BIPOLAR, and I am not ashamed.

Who Am I? What is Bipolar Disorder Really? Just Get Over It

Who am I? Funny, I ask that question so often and still I am not positive what answer really fits.

I know I am a Mom, a wife, a Nana, and doggy Nana. But who am I besides that? Being bipolar is not what I want to identify with. However, it is exactly what I need to identify with. Strange the one thing I hid for so many years of my life is what I feel is the real me.

Growing up I was constantly told by my Mama to just keep it all inside. I don't blame anyone, you see it was the way things were. Mental illness, bipolar disorder or as it was called then Manic Depression, was not something that the world really understood.

They were of the belief that it was just like a cold, I would get over it. So it began my life of being told to 'get over it'.

Bipolar Disorder by:
Definition

BIPOLAR DISORDER also known as manic-depressive illness, is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks.

• Bipolar I Disorder— defined by manic episodes that last at least 7 days, or by manic symptoms that are so severe that the person needs immediate hospital care.Usually, depressive episodes occur as well, typically lasting at least 2 weeks. Episodes of depression with mixed features (having depression and manic symptoms at the same time) are also possible.
• Bipolar II Disorder— defined by a pattern of depressive episodes and hypomanic episodes, but not the full-blown manic episodes described above.

Bipolar I Disorder, that is me. 

Even, after all these years and it has been a long time.My diagnosis was in 1967, and I will not do the math to let you know how many years that has been. If you want to know how long that has been, well do the math. But I only say it has been a LONG TIME. 

My first treatment was a dosage of lithium every morning. I had a deep phobia of choking so my Mama would crush the pill up and feed it to me with a spoon. I can still see myself sitting on the kitchen counter as she crushed that pill, so long ago.

Ironically, it didn't stop anything. Or maybe it kept it from getting too bad. I don't know, all I know for sure was that it was a miserable time for me. The manic episodes were awful, and I know it was hard on my parents as much as me. But I still felt so alone. 

That was when I began to take moments to hide in the closet when things got too intense in my head. 


One of the most difficult things to handle comes in the form of people who still feel like this is a made up disease. Guess what folks, why the hell would I make it up? It hurts when their ignorance is so strong that all they want is to convince me to 'get over it.' 

Bipolar disorder is nothing we can just 'get over,' this is the way things are, and as more people come forward admitting they suffer, it is time for the ignorant to realize the truth.

The funny thing is that while I suffer from this disorder, it is the ignorant I feel sorry for.

Who Am I? Chaotic Whirlwind of Emotions Flutter From My Head

Who am I? Tumultuous nights move into chaotic days as the minutes and hours flow into brighter lights of noise.

Those dark moments of the evening when my mind is so full of noise that I can't sleep,  are always filled with days so chaotic that I am exhausted. People often talk of the cobwebs in their memories, but for me, those cobwebs filled with spiders that won't contain their movement.

Bipolar disorder isn't easy by any means and the clutter that fills my mind is a by-product of my thoughts.

It is hard to describe to the average person that never felt this way exactly what this chaotic world makes me feel. Sometimes it is as if the world is moving in slow motion with a billion things occurring at once. Okay, so that may seem like everyone feels that way and I guess to a degree we all do. But living with Bipolar disorder is far more complicated than that simple statement.

My chaotic thought pattern is more like a jigsaw puzzle cut into a million extra pieces, and every piece is black. Putting that puzzle together to make sense is nearly impossible. That is how my mind is most of the time.

It has taken me many years to learn the idiosyncrasies of my strange world.

When people hear you have this disorder their first reactions are "I'm sorry." And that happens all the time. But for me after all of these years, I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me, cause I don't feel sorry for myself.

Bipolar disorder is chaotic, bipolar disorder is a jumble of thoughts, but they all combine to help create the many artistic things that occur in my life. I love to paint, sketch, write, and anything that allows my inner artist to shine.

Who Am I In This World of Bipolars

Who am I? I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and opinionated redhead. Oh, don't forget I am also bipolar. That honestly should tell you anything you might want to know about me. I am emotional. I love to laugh, but I cry a lot. I love with all my heart and more, but that lets me get hurt easily. I am loud but often too quiet. I can be strong, but I am also weak.

I have endured much in my life. Truly I have lived a life of been there done that. I have done so many things in my life and gone so many places different places. I have met people that thrilled me, shocked me, disgusted me, and some that have provided so much inspiration.

There has been so much fun in my life that it almost seems unfair to the rest of the world. Conversations with Senators, celebrities, mothers, fathers, and children of all ages has given me an enormous amount of happiness and knowledge.

I am still an overly private person, I don't share everything about my life (other than the ramblings of my mind), I hate talking on the phone, and I dislike crowds. The thoughts of meeting new people can often make me physically ill, but meeting someone I have known years can also deliver anxiety.

Past all the incredible people I have had the pleasure of meeting and talking to is the most important thing for this stage in my life. That is me, it took me many years to like the person I am, and now I do.

Most of the world doesn't understand what that is like. But I grew up thinking I was not worthy of anything. There were some in my life that brought out those feelings more than others, which only made it worse.

I am asked so many times in my life why I tell anyone that I am bipolar. It amuses me that anyone would ask because we have reached the point where it feels as if ALL doctors are using the diagnosis as a go-to.

Bipolar disorder seems to have reached a point where if anyone has a problem or gets upset then they must be bipolar. If you hear a celebrity or anyone getting out of control well that person must be bipolar.

I am not ashamed of being bipolar, but it gets to me that every time I hear a news program of an individual who did something, the first thing people say is "they are bipolar."

To those who ask me why I don't hide my bipolar disorder I laugh because ironically it seems everyone has the disorder. Underneath the laughter, I am annoyed that the world has turned this serious problem into almost a joke.

Bipolar disorder is not a joke. And it is not always the problem when people go wrong! Bipolar disorder is no more to blame than guns blamed for the individual who kills. It is the person who does the deed.

There is no shame in me for having a problem that is as much a part of me as breathing. I was diagnosed in 1967 long before the rest of the world decided this was the illness to have. My diagnosis was back in a time when the public knew nothing about this.

I was diagnosed back when the world wanted to hide it and be ashamed. But it is nothing to hide. It is just who I am.

Sure there are days when I can barely even stand to be around me, and I know the rest of the world doesn't want to be around me either. So those days I retreat to my inner sanctum and work on keeping a hold of sanity.

The years I hid this illness were awful. It is terrible to hide who you are to the world. It felt as if I was wearing a mask, days it was a clown mask, days it was a happy face, and days it felt more like I was the ghost in the room.

No, I am not the clown that is wondering around the neighborhood. No, I am not wielding a machete and knocking on doors. Even though there have been moments in my life when I felt as if I was the roaming crazy clown, I am still here.

Today I am a woman who laughs, cries, yells, curls in silence, and lives the best life I can. There are those who are still so ignorant to the illness that they wish I would hide it because they still believe this is just in my head.

I can not hide this, I will not hide this, and I will no longer be ashamed of who Terry is. For those who tell the world I am 'dead,' I will shed tears for the loss of you in my life but I can't or won't change who I am.