This time last year, I was as fragile as a wounded bird. I was two months out of the hospital and rapidly swinging back and forth between gratitude and soul-sucking despair. I don't remember Thanksgiving lunch at my sister's house, so I assume it was emotionally rather stable; however, that evening shortly after arriving at my sister-in-law's house I started to crumble. My husband took me into rooms where he and I could be alone together, he knew that I was overly stimulated and still quite sick. The experience was surreal. I was scared of everyone and everything, so I dissociated, my awareness hovering above my body. During dinner, my hands, inexplicably, turned completely blue. Everyone's attention turned to me, I was showered with attention and care, making the whole evening less awful for me. The blue hands remain a mystery.
This year I'm in a different place emotionally and physically. I'm relatively healthy, or as healthy as I am going to be, considering I have bipolar disorder. Accept for daily bouts of loneliness and depression, my life is good, probably, better than ever. I love my family, home, and work. There are days, like this past Friday, when I lose it, cry hysterically, and feel as though my being alive is a burden to those around me. Those are the shitty days. But I have so much to be thankful for this year. There is love and goodness in my life. I have a loving husband and wonderful and,deeply, satisfying friendships.
I can only pray that this time next year my relationships will have deepened and abundance will continue to flow through my family's life.
It's not easy battling daily depression and I would guess that most of the people in my life don't realize it's an issue for me, but it is. I value every beautiful relationship that I have. All of you keep me going.
I wish all of us a Happy Thanksgiving, one filled with real gratitude and an abundance of all that is good and sweet in life.