“If I Pop Some Pills…”


I was going to write a blog about how I think Hilary Smith’s “Welcome to the Jungle” is so great now that I finished it, but even though it really is good, I can’t stop thinking about “ifs.” I’m sure I just confused you. Heck, I’m really confused right now. I have been having stomach pain and now I’m going in for a CT Scan tomorrow to see what might be wrong.  “MIGHT” is the key word. I’m sure it is nothing. It will turn out to be no big deal, but what “if”…

I’m scared of what it could be, but we’ll see.

I keep thinking of when I was first diagnosed as bipolar. I remember actually being happy about my diagnosis. I remember thinking, “That’s it. That’s what’s wrong with me? Well, at least that is managable. I’m not going to remain crazy for the rest of my life. If I pop some pills, I’ll be fine.” Well, my knowledge about bipolar disorder has changed over the years, but I still return to that girl in the psych ward during college winter break every now and then. I was naive, but in a way I took it rather well. I guess I probably overidentified with the diagnosis (Hilary Smith talks about that), but because I latched on to it like a raft in the stormy seas I felt stranded in at that moment in time, I think it truly helped me successfully remain psychotic free for over ten years.

So, how am I going to respond to this next diagnosis? Am I going to say, “That’s it? I can just pop some pills and I’ll not be crazy anymore.”

Dear God! I hope so!

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