We talk of better days. The days when the right medication combination will be found and level out the roller coaster that has become our life. We dream of a time when the mania won’t be as out of control and the depression won’t be as dark and all consuming. I have a constant mantra: “Tomorrow will be better”, but will it? How do I know? It’s a constant faith in an uncertain future that I cling to. I would be willing to bet that I’m not alone in that.
So, off we go to our numerous doctor’s appointments and bear our souls in the hopes that it will help. Everyday we take our medication in that same hope that there will be improvement. What do we do when medication and doctors aren’t enough? Well, some blog it out, others try the natural route and still others do more. We try everything just to be able to have a somewhat, dare I say it, “normal” existence. We strive for “normal”, but does that even really exist? Maybe we should just be content with where we are.
The more I talk about when I get “better”, the more it depresses me. It depresses me because I really don’t think it’s possible. I think stability is possible, but to be “better”? No. Even stability doesn’t always last. I just enjoy it while it lasts and wait for the next time it decides to grace my presence. The “better days” that I think most of us long for has to do with our “old selves”. It’s been a tough journey to accept this, but I don’t think my old self will ever return. I have been forever changed by the Bipolar and not necessarily in a bad way, just an altered way. As I’ve said in other posts, it’s opened many doors for me and provided me with many opportunities to help others. It many ways, I think it has made me a better (oh, there’s that word again) person. I have my moments when I’m not so nice, but for the most part it has opened my heart to others. This, unfortunately, has caused me some pain (and yes I did blog about one occasion), but through that pain I learn.
So, maybe the “better days” we speak of are actually here. Perhaps “better” isn’t the right word. I think “different” may be more appropriate because each day isn’t necessarily a good one, but it has the potential to be. We survive the horrible days to come out the other side stronger because of them.