As much as I liked all of the gifts Jackie gave me, they became so much more meaningful when she was states away, serving seven years in the California state penitentiary system, where she moved back and forth between prison and a mental health facility for treatment of schizophrenia.
Living with bipolar disorder I have a lot of experience in accepting things as they are. I also have a lot of experience in knowing that the more I focus on the things I can change, and accept that I am powerless over other people, places and things, the more good I do for myself.
We go forward by trusting in the good. Often, we are blindsided. I spent so much time worrying about accidents, abductions and cancer I didn’t see the red arrow aimed straight at my son’s head.
If I’m a little too dark, I scare my family. I little too angry, my friends get nervous. If I’m a little too quiet, my husband gets anxiety. If it lasts a little too long, everyone gets impatient.
I see that it is my obligation to speak. To shed light. To dispel fear. That is my clarion call to you: join me in pursuit of a better world for those of us who are different. We have been woefully remiss, we are responsible, they are ours. All of them. All of us.
I knew then that Jackie deserved to feel her best—at least, the best that’s possible. I knew then that it was my place as her friend to always speak up when she sways from her true personality. I knew then that I was in the right to hold onto who Jackie was before she became ill, and to try to always believe she deserves to get back to that place.
Thankfully, now I’m in a good place. Even on a bad day, life is pretty good. I believe this is in part due to more day-to-day routine, calm and time for joy. I have the space to see the middle-of-the road moods before they can fester into something more serious.
Standing outside the mental health facility as I waited to see Jackie was the most profound moment of my life. My mind became filled with happy memories of us playing four-square at the bus stop, walking to middle school together, and speeding off to high school in her rundown car. But, suddenly those images were interrupted by the intense guilt I felt for failing to help her and the fear of seeing her in such a harsh place.
Use self-care skills like stretching, meditation, self-massage, and breathing techniques as needed through the day;
Be an active listener, try to be a good communicator, open to negotiate and compromise, and enter into interactions with an open-mind and heart. Ask questions, and make less assumptions. Set limits and boundaries as needed, with diplomacy and politeness.
I can’t really begin to describe how it feels to “go manic” other than it feels like your brain is being taken over and that you have this heightened sense of paranoia. For me, that meant that the government was watching me, studying my every move.
