Wednesday, April 8, 2015

The Woman in the Mirror

For a long time, I've looked in the mirror and have been confused at what I see. I frequently ask myself: Who is she? I used to know her, but I hardly recognize myself anymore. That is, until recently...

It all started with a visit to my therapist. I see my therapist every 2 weeks (3 if she's out of town), and honestly- it makes SO much of a difference. She opens my eyes and helps me see things from a different perspective. She helps me release built-up tension or anger, and somehow, my irritability levels (something that can run rampant in someone with bipolar) remain much lower when I see her regularly. It's nice because she is also a Mormon, so we are able to share spiritual growth as well as my growth in dealing with bipolar. She's a bit of a miracle worker.

During one of our more recent discussions, I told her about an experience I had right before our visit. My husband and I attended a funeral. Jake knew most of the people there, but many of them were new to me. Throughout the day, and even afterwards, I received many compliments. One in particular struck me. This compliment was something deeper than your normal compliment. It took me by surprise, especially since this person and I hadn't spoken that much at the funeral. I told my therapist, and exclaimed that it was nice because "...I don't get to hear that very much..."

My therapist stopped me and said "that's a lie"- or something equally as unexpected. She then went on to tell me all of these other experiences that I have had and told her about. All of these experiences, she said, are important because they speak not of your looks or something superficial, but of your eternal character. Then, she asked me a question: "How many times do you have to hear these things until you accept that this is who you are?"

We continued on this path of conversation until it was time for me to go home. This question stuck with me: "How many times until you accept that this is who you are?" I felt repentant... almost as if it were God himself asking me this question. I cried the whole way home.

Because I had felt so sorry to God for not accepting the roles in my life that He has given me, I tried to hang on to that question and those feelings. I had already been working on trying to accept myself and my lots in life, but somehow, this was the turning point for me. I pondered on this question for a few days- and somehow, my burden lifted. Somehow, I was able to accept me for me- and not because I had made any outward changes. My weight was/is still higher than it "should" be. My kids are still loud and needy. I don't have that dream job... or any job. I don't sleep well. I don't enjoy cooking- even though I'd like to. I don't have enough energy during the day. The list goes on.



BUT, I was able to accept my mom's body. (As a dancer, I've been pretty critical of my weight.) I don't think I'm ugly anymore. I can accept my body how it is now. For the longest time, I didn't recognize who I saw in the mirror. I think mostly because I was trying to look like how I did in college. For the first time in years, I saw me how I am now, and it made me HAPPY!!! I actually got pretty excited the other day because I'm starting to see white hairs coming in. WHITE HAIRS!!! I'm not excited because it "shows I have experience"-- no... I'm excited because white hair/gray hair/silver hair is BEAUTIFUL!!! And I can be glad for my age. God has given me one life- one body- and I plan on celebrating it.

In addition to accepting how I look now, I have also accepted the role I am to play. I was able to accept being a stay-at-home mom. Again, for years, I was looking for any opportunity to go out and get a job. Any financial crisis we were in at any given time, my solution was to go get a job. My husband stuck to his guns, though, and insisted the best caregiver we could have for our kids was their mother. I am not without my flaws in this area, but I have finally accepted and am excited to be here for my kids. I have also been given ample oppurtunity - including the use of this blog - to reach out to others who may be also struggling with bipolar or any other mental illness. I am not afraid to speak about it openly and honestly; hopefully connecting with others who may feel lonely or afraid. There is hope. You are not alone. You CAN learn to manage it, though it may be a rough path getting there.
I am in a good place. There is some realistic worry that my feelings of euphoria are coming from a place of mania rather than a place that can last, so I'm trying to hold onto it as long as possible. Even so, I feel I am finally looking forward in my life instead of dwelling on the past. There are, of course, still many things I need to improve on. BUT, I'm grateful for where I am, for WHO I am. The key to discovering our true identity is to stop looking in the mirror, and start looking up. I am a daughter of God. I have a divine destiny and purpose. He will be my guide.

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