I am currently in a partial hospital program to learn more about how to manage my bipolar symptoms. I have an extra day home today because the weather decided to turn, well, wintery.
So far, the program has been great, though exhausting. I came home last night and slept 11 hours. I don’t know what is wiping me out so much. The hours of sitting in a warm room. The listening carefully to others comments. The thinking about all the things that brought me to this program. The Bipolar itself. I don’t know what, but something is wearing me out.
But I would say, after the first two days, going to the program has been a good choice and will reap good rewards. Except for a hiccup yesterday morning.
Each morning we meet with a nurse to review our previous evenings and our goals for the training day. Yesterday, the particular nurse had taken my medical history, so knew about the Multiple Sclerosis (MS) in my history just previous to our meeting together as a group.
As I talked about my husband, she did the math and figured out I had been dealing with active illness at the time my husband and I married. And she said, are you ready?
Wow, you are really lucky your husband married you with you having MS.
Yup, she said that. To me. In a group. And reduced me, excuse the pun, to a Charity case. Wasn’t that so wonderful and altruistic of my husband to marry me?
Thanks lady. I might have spent the last 13 years telling myself he married me for me and with one comment you sideswiped away a lot of progress. So here I sit, typing this out to you in tears.
Hubby and I might have joked about it last night, but at the core of my being, it is anything but a joke.
I am Charity.
I am not MS.
I am not Bipolar Disorder.
I am not Generalized Anxiety Disorder.
Maybe I am all those things.
Oh My God. Thank you dear nurse, for gutting my belief I am worthy of love just for who I am.
EDIT: I approached the staff at the program and the nurse sincerely apologized for her comment. She was very sweet and sincere.Survive til you Thrive!