Lived Out Loud

Over the last 5 years, I have shared a lot.  About fun stuff.  About confusing stuff.  And about hard stuff.  Sometimes, really hard stuff.

Mental illness, first as postpartum depression, anxiety and psychosis and then as bipolar disorder II has been something I have talked a great deal about.  I often walk away from various blog posts raw, wondering what I am thinking sharing so much of myself.  Most of the time, I continue on with the post.

Sometimes, things get held in tight.

So, why do I do this?  Why do I share the hard?  Why don’t I just stop whining and move on?

Today, I was reminded why.

Someone in my day-to-day life noticed a change in me, noticed that I seem to be moving slower.  And she’s right.  I feel like I am often in a dream, stuck in slower motion.  I told her it was because of medication I was on.  She surprised me by asking what medication–so I told her, bipolar disorder.  She took it in stride and didn’t totally weird out on me.

But I walked away wondering why I had told her so bluntly.  Why did bare a part of me that many people would hold in close.  I puzzled over it awhile.  And then it hit me.

It’s the only way to get rid of stigma.  I have to be able to show that I function and live well with mental illness if I want people to some day accept it as okay, as not quite normal, but not a monster to be feared.  If I want that day to come, I have to do my part of usher it in.

I have to live it out loud.

Survive til you Thrive!

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