Here I stand, and here I'll stay.

Hey lovely friends and strangers. This is a new kind of blog. This is not a diary; this is not my mundane thoughts on events or people, or my adventures and relationships.

This blog was created as a healing process, one that we can all share and hopefully hold on to when we are in the darkness of insanity. This is a place where I can fill the emptiness that I feel as a person who suffers emotionally and mentally, and hopefully it will help some of you fill the hollowness as well.

This blog is a brave step for me--for all of us. I am embarrassed by my disorders. I always have been. I've always felt (and was told) that I was being "too dramatic", or that I would grow out of it. But I didn't. It's embarrassing to talk about, because I don't want my family or friends treating me ANY different than before (at least, the ones that didn't know). I am still a strong person, and I deserve to be treated that way.

I'm going to be honest, guys. It's not cool to be actually crazy. People joke about being "lol so bipolar" or "omg my anxiety", and honestly, I make those jokes occasionally. But mental disorders are a huge deal. It is terrifying. It's not a broken arm that heals, or a sickness that eventually gets better. I will live with my disorders for the rest of my life. I will pass this on to my children.

I was diagnosed with ADD and acute depression when I was in middle school, after I had what I refer to as my first serious (like, quasi-life threatening), episode. I was always a moody child. A weird one. After years of being on different medications, I was diagnosed with Bipolar II in high school and was getting treatment. In college I made a bunch of terrible decisions with relationships and my life. It got scary. I don't want people freaking out  (because I love my family and don't want them freaking out), but my episodes got really serious and many times they were life-threatening. Now I'm treated for ADD, BII, and anxiety, and things are great. I'm more stable than before. I have an anchor--my wonderful husband and family--and my episodes are not as drastic. I'm finding out how to treat myself through writing and exercise and love.

I get episodes of guilt from things I have done in the past. I don't think people understand what happens when you go into an episode (whether manic or depressive). And it's literally impossible to explain to people that sometimes you can't control your actions or decisions.

See, it's not fun guys. It's not fun to constantly feel everything at once. I get scared when I'm happy, because I know that it won't last. I get scared when I'm really happy, because I know that means I'm about to make terrible decisions. I feel sad about my happiness and then I feel empty because all of my emotions are drained by about 4 p.m.

Some days I get the weirdest anxiety. Like, I get really really really really bad anxiety about almost everything. Walking across campus because I walk like an idiot. Sitting at a table by myself. I get anxiety about tripping and chipping my tooth. EVERY TIME I USE STAIRS I KNOW I'M GOING TO TRIP AND CHIP MY TOOTH OPEN AND THEN HAVE CHIPPED HOMELESS PEOPLE TEETH FOREVER. Driving. Ordering food at restaurants. Stoplights and stop signs. Looking at people for too long. Asking someone a question. ANSWERING QUESTIONS IN CLASS. Going to the gym. Sweating (I have hyperhydrosis lol). Loud noises. Big crowds. Just...doing anything makes me nervous and my brain goes numb. I dry heave before I take (mostly math) tests because if I eat I know I'll throw up. Talking to girls makes me super anxious (I don't even...).

This isn't just "oh I get nervous", I seriously can't function. My brain shuts down and I get shaky and I sweat everywhere and my blood circulation gets horrifyingly bad (if my hands are purple, you can bet I'm in a battle with my brain). I get anxiety about talking about anxiety. Like right now. I want to crawl in a hole, but I'm trooping on. Don't even get me started about school or money or the future.

I get anxiety writing in a journal. I don't even.

So now that I've depleted my attention in writing this post, I hope that this can give you some insight in what this blog will be about. I swear it won't just be me complaining about my problems. I just want to be explicit with what's going on so that others can read this and understand that my life is not perfect. I have the perfect husband, of course, but the life inside my brain is a mess. I am pretty and fun and smart on the outside, but inside my mind is crawling with darkness and shame and guilt.

But, y'know, I also get happy sometimes too. My brain has happiness in it too. I love being happy.

Sanity isn't always what it's cracked up to be.

Sometimes sanity is just a siren's song, beckoning us into emotional mediocrity.