Almost Two Years Sober and Counting…

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On Roughly May 30, 2019, I made a life altering decision to embrace sobriety and battle my previous five year addiction to drugs. This means soon I will be going on two years sober. I am not proud to say I dabbled in a little of everything prior to getting sober but my main addiction was smoking pot. I could not seem to live without it and no matter how hard I wanted to stop smoking up (towards the end of my smoking days anyways), I could not kick the habit.

The initial days of smoking weed, or rather the first couple of years, it was like the honeymoon phase of a relationship – everything was coming up roses. I managed to be more productive while high and creative in that it opened my thought processes to channels never explored before. I became a more relaxed version of myself I fell in love with, as I have struggled my entire life with being a Type A personality – everything, including me, had to be perfect and when things were less than that I would panic and freak out.

But like every honeymoon, it eventually ends, or at least for me. I began experiencing unusually long bouts of depression where I lacked all motivation (strange for someone who has been Type A their whole life) and spent hours, sometimes days in bed. I began taking risks like trying other, more harder drugs – FYI “weed as a gateway drug” is an actual thing. Weed relaxes you and puts you in a more open state of mind and I started to contemplate, “well what’s the harm? I tried weed and it seems to be going quite well for me so far.” I can tell you, if you couldn’t already tell, I was completely and utterly naïve when it came to drugs and their effects. Curiosity got the better of me, however, and soon I was falling down the rabbit hole of addiction. You know they say, “curiosity killed the cat” for a fucking reason! Well I fucking ran over that Tabby with all four wheels.

I had never even smoked weed until I was 18 never seeing the allure until curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to know why everyone was constantly stoned in my dormitory at University. I wondered “what the fuck is the big deal?” and I wanted to experience it for myself. I mainly tried it for the first time because I wanted to understand why my then serious boyfriend was consistently showing up baked off his face, to the point he’d be drooling almost. I’ve always had this insatiable need to know – to know why or how things worked.

The first time I smoked up, I was in a circle of about eight people from my dormitory who were passing multiple joints in both clockwise and counter-clockwise direction. I must have puffed over a hundred times and felt no different and grew frustrated when my closest friend at the time from my floor asked, “Are you high yet?” Because my answer was no. I more specifically said, “I don’t know if I’m high but I’m not really feeling anything to be honest,” to which my friend replied “then you are definitely not high. Here, let me explain how to inhale it properly and most effectively.” She then described to me the words I would live by for the next five years when trying to get high. I inhale, hold it in the back of my throat, inhale again before exhaling, hold that breath in as well until I feel the smoke ticking the bottom of my esophagus. I’ve always been a visual learner and to have the breathing technique explained in a more visual way sunk in better….and then I was fucking high off my face.

I can not explain that first high or the next ten, or thirty, but they all felt as if I was seeing the colour red for the first time in my life – my emotions were heightened tenfold and sensations felt well for lack of a better term – “sensational.” The thing that hooked me the most about smoking up was something so simple yet so beautiful to me. Music sounded like it was in surround sound regardless of how I listened to it, by that I mean the notes and melodies churned in my soul and surrounded me in a warm embrace I had never experienced before. Everything was better high, or seemed that way – Love, Sex, Studying, Partying, Writing, Drawing, you name it – everything seemed more epic while high.

As I mentioned earlier, it was all fun and games for the first few years but then, for me at least, it turned into things much darker. It turned into nights of blacking out, risk taking behavior like one night stands, a gradual progression into trying “new and more exciting drugs,” that led me to spiral faster and faster towards what would ultimately be my first serious mental breakdown, a psychosis.

It was a result of this psychosis that I would be diagnosed with bipolar disorder and the way I saw and related to myself would forever be changed. Many people with an addiction have a co-existing mental health condition such as bipolar disorder. Bipolar disorder in its basic nutshell –  causes mood swings between intense emotional highs and lows. Although it’s not fully understood why, bipolar disorder makes people more likely to abuse drugs and alcohol. Drugs and alcohol often make the symptoms of bipolar disorder worse. People with no history of mental health issues can also develop bipolar disorder that were previously dormant as a result of drug abuse.

My drug abuse and my development of bipolar disorder at the ripe age of twenty-two begs the classic question, “What came first? The chicken or the egg.?” Did my abuse of drugs lead to bipolar or did my bipolar cause my drug addiction? And this one conundrum plagues me to this day because it makes me sick to my stomach to think I unintentionally caused the most traumatic experiences of my life from the abuse of substances I could of and should of just simply avoided (almost killing myself due to crippling depression, experiencing two manic psychoses in which I had hallucinations and delusions of grandeur). My biggest fear is that I have substance-induced bipolar disorder rather than it being a result of my genetic make-up.

There is no real way however to really tell what caused my disorder. But as a person who is now sober and who can think more rationally (to an extent, I am still bipolar after all, haha!) that thought creeps in and bothers me from time to time, “Could all the heartache and trauma caused by my bipolar disorder have been avoided if I had simply never been so curious as to try drugs in the first place?” And I’ll be honest, after everything that I have been through this is a troubling idea.

So what made me get sober after years of abusing drugs (mainly pot)? The same thing that got me into that whole mess in the first place – curiosity. I was curious whether my depressions, which seemed to only be getting progressively worse, would be less extreme once off drugs for good. I was curious whether being sober would improve my mental health and rejuvenate my energy levels that always seemed to be lower than normal. I was curious whether a sober version of myself might be the better version of myself I had been searching for.

The thing that led to my eventual recovery and sobriety was a mixture of different actions I decided to finally take, instead of simply pondering how to quit I put into action a plan to end the co-dependence between me and drugs. I called an addictions counsellor through a non-profit organization and began seeing her for one hour sessions every two weeks to discuss why I was still holding onto drugs and what plan of action I should take in ridding them from my life. She suggested I slowly wean off and start by smoking less and less amounts of pot, however, each week I would come back with the same excuses as to why I smoked excessively that week and did not manage whatsoever to decrease my pot intake. My counsellor was patient however and kept strategizing with me regardless of whether I met my goals or not.

When I saw how invested my counsellor was in my case, demonstrating she genuinely cared, I shifted my motivation for quitting drugs onto her, in that I wanted to make her proud of my progress.  I decided randomly one week to quit cold turkey and test myself and see if I could come into my counselling session with the proclamation that I had done it, I had gone two weeks without dope! After months of what I felt was wasting her time (in hindsight though we were building the foundation for me to quit) I finally was able to come in  to my session with the boast that I had been sober for longer and longer bouts of time.

My main motivation at first was to make my counsellor proud but then it changed – to being able to maintain the positive changes I started to notice just four weeks clean of substances. In a blog post that I wrote at my four-week clean mark I write: “I am going on four weeks sober from quitting smoking marijuana and I’ve already noticed some changes. One of these changes is that I seem to be the Energizer Bunny with a shit ton of energy and inability to sleep. Prior to this endeavor I was napping constantly and having a hard time being awake and alert. I feel as though I am making up for lost time. I want to do the things I was unable to before and I want to do it all!’’

I also mention the following: “The most beneficial change and the one I’ve noticed the most is I have a much better accepting and positive attitude. I can accept where I am in life and have slowly made plans to make small changes in order to achieve the longer term goals I am now setting for myself. While smoking dope I was prone to commiserate on my current situation and smoked even more dope to deal with the commiseration. I want to be more active in my life both physically and figuratively.”

The farther I got away (time wise) from smoking dope and the closer I got to being the better version of myself I had envisioned, the easier it became to simply not smoke up anymore. I can honestly say almost two years later (of being sober) that I will never regret this decision nor will I ever make the mistake of lighting up again. I realize now I have an extremely addictive personality and there is no such thing as “Oh, I’ll just have one puff” because with my brain wiring I will always want it all, and will continue to cross the line in order to get it. I am now a much more clear- headed and rational person whose decisions are not based on where I’ll be getting my next fix. My life has so much more meaning and I am so glad that I am starting to figure it out once again – what that meaning is for me.

Russell Brand’s book “Recovery: Freedom From Our Addictions” was instrumental in my journey towards sobriety. I mention, in a blog post exploring this book, while actively in the throes of addiction still the following: “Brand mentions in the first chapter of his book that most of us are divided: “…usually part of us wants to change a negative, punishing behavior, whereas another part wants to hold on to it” (Brand 21). I want to change my drinking and smoking habits yet part of me wants to hold on to them. I like the way they make me feel in the moment but I feel terrible after coming down from my high. I do not want to crash anymore but is my drive to rid alcohol and drugs from my life bigger or less than my enjoyment of them? I have decided to test myself and ultimately find out. I will never know if I can live a sober life if I never try to live one.”

I continue to reflect on the possibility of sobriety and mention just starting counselling, “I think, no I know, that I deserve more credit. I believe I am fully capable of sobriety so why do I fight it and struggle so much against it? Addiction is a difficult beast and I am aware that there is a chemical dependency to drugs I am also fighting as well as my willpower to stay sober. My brain is at war with itself and I think it’s finally time to draw up a peace treaty. I will be seeking various support groups until I find one that fits me so to speak and am beginning addiction counselling this week. I am taking an active role in what I hope will be my recovery and will not sit idle hoping that by some divine intervention I will find the answers. I am trying and I think that should count for something.”

I am proud reading this old blog post because I didn’t just try to quit drugs, I succeeded. I have been almost two years sober and the most common question I get from my friends who still smoke and seem to think this is a temporary part of my life (a phase so to speak) is, “don’t you miss getting high?” To that I reply, “Never.” I know without a doubt I am leaving weed behind me and I consider it a part of some former life I barely recognize now where I was WEAK. In a blog post two months into sobriety I wrote the following, “Being Sober is Scary cause you’re painfully aware of what is lacking and you don’t have a substance to fill up that space so you have no choice but to confront…confront your life and start conquering it.” I was weak before, using weed as a crutch for all the negative thoughts and feelings I was struggling with and trying to come to terms with. My brain was a constant war zone constantly trying to hit the self-destruct button and instead of grappling with why that was the case or how I could change my thoughts to be more positive – I self-medicated.

There reaches a point in your journey when a fork appears in the road, and you can continue on the same path you’ve been travelling in hopes it one day changes for the better or you can take the road you’ve yet to explore. You’re not quite sure if it will yield what you hope for but at the very least it will assuredly offer something new and different. After a long couple of years of misery, I decided I was either going to continue down the path of substance abuse mindlessly covering my internal wounds with essentially band-aids, or I could be brave and choose a new path – one where I struggled, got sober, and came to terms with myself honestly and authentically.

Consider the road that challenges you the most when these forks appear on your life’s journey. I can tell you from personal experience, they are more rewarding and you learn that you are truly capable of whatever you set your mind to. Set your mind to exploring, exploring self-growth and you will never regret it. Each day I come closer to understanding myself a little better and I know now I am extremely susceptible to becoming overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts that do not serve me. I keep this in line by keeping my wits about me since (as I can attest) drugs just add to the chaos. I want to fully appreciate and interpret my world without dulling it or numbing it on some whim. I want to feel…everything. I no longer wish to hide behind a substance as a way to cope with some shit reality. I intend to create my own, better reality.

“Don’t you miss getting high?”

To that I reply, “I am already high.”

ALL My Love,

Still Sober,

xoxoxoxo,

BiPolarMania

A Love Letter To My Sneakers,

I run to fly.

A Love Letter To My Sneakers,

You gave me the freedom to fly when I felt trapped in the cage that was my mind. Running turned to gliding with the support of your stability. I ran faster and harder, leaving behind demons who tormented me. I never knew such power until I met you, my inner strength constantly unleashed by the strides you allowed me to take. 

I want to thank you for showing me consistently I am capable of more than I give myself credit. You set the pace for my tortured mind to find grace. There is a stillness and peace found in your presence I have yet to find anywhere else. 

Regardless of the distance travelled, I never regret the journey with you. I find myself a little more with every adventure we take together. When life becomes unbearable there is perspective in your steps, pushing me forwards – towards the light. 

You lift me up when I need to soar, reminding me of the bigger picture once more. You never judge me for the thoughts I express but rather offer to help me work through them. The pace is always mine to set and there is never resentment whether it be faster, or slower. 

I want to thank you for teaching me resilience, that recovery is a process. No two strides are ever the same as you continually teach me I am capable and worthy of change. You fight for my right to become the best possible version of myself – I love that about you. 

“More than anything I run to fly, to take my mended broken wings and force them into the sky.”

– Brittany Gushue (Me)

The more time I spend in your shoes, the more I realize life is not always about the destination rather the adventure one experiences on the way there. There are times I want to stop, hit pause, and give up, but you inspire me to keeping moving forward despite this.  

I want to thank you for demonstrating the only competition I have in this life is with myself. I know I can always rely on your steadfast commitment to my growth. You allow me the space to explore my potential without judgment. 

I run most days to think through my thoughts and emotions and somedays, to avoid them. Regardless of the intent, my mind is always clearer and less cluttered, no longer bogged down by the negativity I am ashamed to admit can crowd my brain. 

More than anything I run to fly, to take my mended broken wings and force them into the sky.

I’m Conscious Of Not Making Monsters Outta My Exes

There is a verse in a very popular song by Drake from his “Take Care” album (my favourite of all time) that comes to mind as I contemplate something one of my exes (and now really good friends) said to me today. It is verse three from the song “Marvin’s Room:”I think I’m addicted to naked pictures/ And sitting talking ’bout bitches that we almost had/ I don’t think I’m conscious of makin’ monsters / Outta the women I sponsor ’til it all goes bad.” He mentioned that he appreciates and values the way I talk about my exes, referring to not only him but every and any ex I ever bring up. I was severely confused as to what he was getting at and asked what he meant by that statement.

“You never put your exes down. You speak objectively and highly of everyone you have dated. You always mention honestly the traits or qualities that got in the way of the relationship fully developing any further but you also make a point to highlight the redeeming qualities they had or memories that touched you.”

I realized he has a point but it took me nearly a decade of self-discovery and throwing myself in and out of relationships to develop this emotional maturity. I will not negate the lesson that a person brings to my life and I genuinely believe everyone comes into your life for a reason. Each relationship is an opportunity for growth and the same idea relates to the end of one. I learn different aspects of myself every time I explore the mind, soul and body of another. Each ex has helped me explore my life in a different way and I will forever be grateful for that.

It’s easy to get caught up in or hurt by the idea of rejection but when you view it as I do – as a stepping stone to a better truth – it ceases to lose its power over you. Each failed relationship taught you something whether you want to admit It or can see it. Like Drake said, “I don’t think I’m conscious of making’ monsters/ Outta the women I sponsor ’til it all goes bad.” The truth is I let that person into my life for a reason, at some point they brought joy or value to it. I cannot negate all the positive experiences with the negative ones and fall trap to bitterness and “talking shit about exes.”

I can however, be honest and realistic about their shortcomings when discussing why my relationships failed with my friends but I am also brutally honest with my own and where I learned due to that experience, where I need and could grow. We are constantly evolving and sometimes certain people who come into our life romantically aren’t ready to grow at the pace we are, or we realize we do not share the same values, or often cases we outgrow them. That’s ok…Learn, Move on, and Become Better For It.

Talk shit if it makes you feel better, I don’t really care what you do to cope but I would like you to consider shifting perspectives. I want you to consider re-evaluating why people walk into your life. I believe everyone walks in and out of your life with a purpose and a meaning. Their presence was meant to show you something that you either really want or often exactly what you don’t want. Both are valuable to understand about oneself.

We’re constantly learning and changing what we value, think, belief, etc. Do not be afraid to let go of something or someone that no longer aligns with who you are. It’s ok to change up the game when something is not working. Do not ever regret the beginning or the end of an experience because it was meant to happen to you – to change and evolve you.

I talk objectively about the relationships I have had (highlighting both the negative and positive) because to genuinely learn and grow from it, I must be honest with myself. I am not going to make someone out to be a monster because they lacked the communication skills or emotional intelligence I have. I also won’t hold it against exes who treated me disrespectfully since they were the most valuable lesson of all – to stand up for myself and love myself enough to walk away. But most importantly I need to address that I don’t blame exes who left me because I did not measure up to their expectations of what they think they deserve.

Love isn’t a race. There’s no rush. Be open to the idea that someone may be a lesson, and not your “forever.” If you shift your perspective in this way I promise you’ll feel better about the failure of a relationship. You might even come to enjoy them more as opportunities to learn about yourself and less about the feeling of rejection. You don’t have to be that bitter ex talking shit about your ex if you don’t want to be. Let it go, see the bigger picture, especially and even if they don’t. This life is yours and you’re wasting energy holding onto things that no longer serve you. Remember, and don’t necessarily forget, but move on. Allow yourself and them the grace of being human.

It’s easy to make monsters out of the relationships that went bad but it shows strength to want to find the good in them and let it go.

All My Love,

Forever Letting Go,

xoxoxoxoxo,

BiPolarMania

Rebounds Only Delay The Inevitable Need For Healing

 A rebound relationship is defined as, “A relationship initiated shortly after a romantic breakup – before the feelings about the former relationship have been resolved,” according to a research study conducted by Brumbaugh and Fraley.

I have never been so called out in my life when reading this definition, sitting back analyzing my most recent failed relationship or rather “rebound” that lasted six months.

I never took the time to heal from a loving and very supportive relationship that lasted nearly three years. It came to a natural end when he confessed his struggle with gender dysphoria and the desire to transition into a woman.

Could you imagine unpacking all those feelings? First, resentment because I got attached and wasn’t told sooner, then despair because I genuinely loved him but couldn’t continue with “her” since I am not, contrary to my sexually fluid youth, a lesbian. This wasn’t something that could easily be overcome or fought for because if it was, we’d still be together.

Picture yourself dealing with a confusing orchestra of doubt in your head about love and whether you will ever find or deserve it again, when in walks a man who catches your eye. He seems to notice you when no one else does and though you’re in a crowded room his concentration is only on you. You begin to wonder, “maybe losing the last relationship was meant to happen to bring me to this person? Perhaps that loss was actually a part of a longer journey to this truer love instead?”

The problem when you’re a hopeless romantic, hurting in the throes of a break-up, is you tend to dawn rose-coloured glasses. What should have been a short-lived relationship equivalent to a summer fling or a one-night stand, painfully drags on. I wore glasses tainted with idealization because it was easier to perceive what I wanted to believe than confront the fact I was only looking for comfort to distract myself from painful feelings – mainly loneliness.

I’m sad, angry, confused, happy, and a whole other slew of emotions that seem to come and go. Though this may feel intense and overwhelming, it’s beautiful. I am no longer numb, mindlessly going through the paces of a relationship going nowhere fast.

-Brittany Gushue

I ignored his lack of communication, attention and affection to keep distracted and at the end of the day that’s all it was – a band aid for a bullet wound. I didn’t know it yet but he would become my rebound, my “second best,” because honestly all he was ever good for was distracting me from my ex, the person I legitimately loved. He was a band-aid for the bullet-sized hole “she” had left on my soul. She left a mark, an impression on my heart that no one had before.

I did not want to face all those messy feelings that made me uncomfortable so I settled for mediocrity in a new relationship to keep the charade that I was “fine” alive. I am and was not okay when I lost who I thought was the love of my life. I ran into the arms of another person looking for comfort to distract myself from acknowledging this – accepting I had experienced a loss.

When the fog of distraction lifted, I found myself in the worst relationship I had ever been in. He was jealous, aloof, uncommunicative and unwilling to change. He was always this way. The rose coloured glasses came off when I decided to walk away and face the delayed inevitable need for healing.

My rebound was second best in that he distracted me from my previous relationship and a person I was struggling to let go of, but also because he distracted me from myself. The most important relationship I will ever have in this life is the one I have with myself. If I am being honest I have a lot more growing to do and exploring the dynamics of Me, Myself and I before I can begin to fathom letting someone back in to my heart. That’s okay because one day I will be in a better place to accept and recognize the next great love of my life.

The fact is, I’m newly single yet I feel like I’m exactly where I was six months ago before this rebound ended. I refused to let go of him sooner, hiding from facing the pain of my previous failed relationship. Now I must confront those feelings again, the ones I buried by throwing myself into a new relationship instead of healing and exploring myself first.

I’m sad, angry, confused, happy, and a whole other slew of emotions that seem to come and go. Though this may feel intense and overwhelming, it’s beautiful. I am no longer numb, mindlessly going through the paces of a relationship going nowhere fast. Allow yourself the time and grace to heal, to properly grieve before moving on or you’ll find yourself like me – holding onto somebody for the sake of holding on and delaying the inevitable need for healing.

All My Love, Forever Healing,

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo,

BiPolarMania

Why Can’t I Be Bipolar AND Sexy Too, On Social Media?

One of my posts from Instagram.

This is a clapback post to all the bigots, judgers, sexists, misogynists and quite frankly asshole keyboard warriors with limited, prejudiced views. I recently been posting pictures on Instagram showcasing my body and a person who I recently reconnected with clearly did not agree with it and felt the need to express themselves in the most rude, obnoxious and bigoted way. I am writing this post to say firstly you can post whatever you want regardless of mental illness or mental health and secondly to those who don’t like it: unfollow, unsubscribe as you wish but please keep your opinions to your self! Below is an image of the email he sent me…

Let me address the more annoying part of this email I received first, “Women pose like this because they think it’s what men want to see and so becomes counterproductive and counter exploitative.” Last time I checked you were a man and therefore do not try to understand or underestimate why “women pose like this.” Contrary to this man’s opinion that I am being “attention seeking,” I am posing like this to demonstrate my strength and resolve. It has absolutely nothing to do with men and everything to do with women. I want women to see these images and be inspired to celebrate their bodies. If you got it, my god, fucking flaunt it! If you look through my Instagram you can see a plethora of “working out” and gym posts as I progressed from being overweight to being the fittest I have ever been in my life – Fuck You! Of Course I am going to celebrate and showcase that!

As for his comment, “#MeToo and equality gives you every right to pose as you wish” rattles me. First of all the #MeToo movement has nothing to do with sexy poses being posted on social media and everything to do with sexual harassment and violence. To equate the “MeToo” movement to me having the freedom to pose “as I wish” is ignorant and negates the genuine motives behind this movement.

In 2006, the “me too.” Movement was founded by survivor and activist Tarana Burke. Burke wanted a way to empower women who had endured sexual violence by letting them know that they were not alone—that other women had suffered the same experience they had. In 2017, the #metoo hashtag went viral and woke up the world to the magnitude of the problem of sexual violence. The ‘me too’ Movement believes in the radical possibilities of a movement against sexual violence led by survivors. In 2017, the phrase was reintroduced by actress Alyssa Milano as a way to encourage women and men to share their stories as part of an anti-sexual harassment movement.

On the afternoon of Oct. 15, 2017, the actress Alyssa Milano tweeted a request to her followers: “If you’ve been sexually harassed or assaulted write ‘me too’ as a reply to this tweet.” Within 24 hours, her post generated thousands of replies, comments and retweets and inspired thousands more original posts on social media, with women and men from around the world sharing personal stories. Among the celebrities who responded were Lady Gaga, Viola Davis, Javier Muñoz and Evan Rachel Wood. But many women who were not household names also spoke out: nurses, teachers, engineers, florists, waitresses and students — mothers and daughters, sisters and wives. Some opened up for the first time about being raped. Others told of fending off aggressive co-workers and losing jobs.

I am not a victim of either sexual harassment or violence and never claimed to be nor do I hide behind a hashtag to “excuse” my posts. I do not have to excuse myself for celebrating my body and how far I have come in my fitness journey. I felt like this man emailing me was implying #MeToo opened the door for me as a woman to post anything and “get away with it.” This is a strong misunderstanding of the motives behind the movement which are to give power and a voice to sexual assault, abuse, and harassment victims. I do not need to hide behind any movement or organization as a scapegoat for my actions because they are just that, MY actions. I act with intention and consideration. I do not think, for example, my posting provocative pictures hurts my mental health community or perpetuates stigma.

Another frustrating part of this man’s emails and messages was him mentioning my mental illness as a reason not to post these types of pictures and that I am essentially giving people with Bipolar a bad name. First of all, what the fuck does mental illness have to do with this? Secondly, just because I advocate for mental health and fighting stigma does not mean I can’t be “sexy” while doing it. In fact, I’d argue it’s fighting the stigma more because I am showing that yes, a person with mental health issues can display their body with self-confidence too. There is no shame in putting it out there if you feel comfortable doing it. What separates me from every other woman on Instagram posting sexy pictures? – That I am Bipolar? I do not see this man attacking or sending them condescending messages.

He calls me “vulnerable” because why? I dare to post a picture in a bodysuit or my underwear? And can we address that for a second – women post full nudes with exposed nipples on Instagram and this man is attacking me for modelling lingerie? So I guess I am a “Tramp” then? (his words, not mine) I am not promiscuous and stand for a lot more than this man is giving me credit for. I stand for freedom of expression above anything and these pictures are just that – an expression of my body. If showing off my body – something I worked really hard for – makes me look “vulnerable and needing attention” then so be it. Except it does not, it demonstrates I am comfortable in my own skin, something in my opinion that is vital to good mental health.

When I did not respond to his rude email, he felt the need to direct message me on Instagram days later

“And if people know you are bi-polar it doesn’t really help you or people with your condition…” was probably the part of this man’s email that infuriated me. People with Bipolar are just like anyone else in that we too have different interests and personalities. I can be Bipolar AND interested in modelling lingerie and posting sexy pictures – that’s just me. My illness will never stop me from pursuing something I enjoy nor will the stigma towards “people with your condition” as he so eloquently put it. I never realized celebrating my own body would upset somebody so much to the point they had to send not one, but two nasty messages.

According to PsychCentral, mental health advocates “are the individuals who tirelessly share their stories in all sorts of ways. They remind us that we’re not alone in our struggles—and there is real, tangible hope and healing. They shatter stereotypes and myths about mental illness, helping the public see that people with mental illness are just people.” Let me hone in on the following part, “helping the public see that people with mental illness are just people.” I am a person first, above anything else, a person who likes to share my progress on social media. This has culminated in my most recent posts in lingerie demonstrating the epoch of my fitness journey. I worked hard to get to the point where I am comfortable putting it all out there. . I am also a sensual person who likes to get in touch with their sexy side when posing for the camera. People with mental illnesses can be sexy too and it doesn’t make us any less of a person or mental health advocate for wanting to display that.

I have an extremely positive body image and I demonstrate it through my lack of reluctance to post these pictures on the Gram. “Most people have a negative body image, with up to 72% of women and 61% of men report being unsatisfied with their bodies (Fiske et al., 2014). Having a negative body image can impact our mental health. For instance, body dissatisfaction is related to lower self-esteem (Tiggeman, 2005), depression (Keel et al., 2001), and disordered eating (Goldfield et al., 2010).” Showing you can feature your body publicly encourages others to explore theirs and sometimes inspire them to own the body they do have. I want to celebrate what I worked consistently towards and acknowledge I fucking done good! It was not always like this which is why I am posting these pictures – to prove a point that hard work and dedication pay off. My Instagram is also full of pictures leading up to this moment, ones where I am red and sweaty from having exercised and ones where I am heavier preaching the same body positivity. The fact is I love my body no matter what size it takes but I will admit I enjoy this extra fit version of myself currently because I am mother fucking STRONG.

I am literally the strongest I have ever been and yes, I am proud, and yes, I want to showcase that.

I think if anything I am showing that people with mental illness do not fit in these neat little boxes. Being a mental health and illness advocate should not mean you do not get to express your “sexy” side if you have one and want to flaunt it. I should not be taken any less seriously because I am a young woman who likes to show off her body. However, I know it doesn’t work that way, people are judging me not only for posting those pictures but also judging me by my looks. Just because I am an attractive young woman who likes to post “liberal” images of herself does not imply I am lacking intelligence or do not have anything of value to say. Stop judging books by covers and stop trying to belittle women or imply they are a “slut” for celebrating their bodies on social media. I am confident in my own skin despite struggling with a mental illness and quite frankly it suggests confidence and self-esteem I can post these pictures but not only that, it demonstrates my integrity to this esteem in not taking them down the minute somebody did not like the idea of them being out there. I am going to post whatever the fuck I want or feel comfortable sharing on social media because that’s who I am – a person with integrity who will not let some man tell me what or what I should not be posting.

As for me regretting this “later in life,” I can’t help but laugh. I don’t believe in regrets and I strongly believe in living for the moment. This moment in time I felt compelled to share those pictures and not for whatever misguided reasons people assume when associated with sexy pictures. These pictures represent something for me – this moment – when I felt the most confident and secure in my body image. I’d honestly regret not posting them because then I’d be left wondering, “Did I not post them because I was afraid of the opinions of others?” I feel and look the best I have ever felt in years and damn straight I want to share that. I want to look back on these pictures and remember how confident, sexy and strong I was in THIS moment. No regrets, I won’t look back. You can call me a slut, tramp, mindless Instagram Babe or whatever suits your fancy but just know I ain’t here for it. Your name calling and condescending opinions will never censor the content I put out which is authentically me. I AM Bipolar AND sexy too but I won’t apologize for it. I also will not allow people to belittle me into thinking I am any less or that I am not a good person or a good mental health advocate because I display my body. You’re simply ignorant in my opinion if you think the two some how correlate. I am a woman above all else with the freedom to post or not post whatever the fuck I want. If you don’t like it, hit the unsubscribe button quietly then walk away and please keyboard warriors, just get out of my fucking face!

Stay Sexy,

All My Love,

xoxoxoxoxxoxo,

BiPolarMania

JFDI – “Just Fucking Do It”

I have been neglecting what I hope will be my life’s work, writing my memoirs about living and struggling with bipolar disorder, specifically my experiences with multiple psychoses. I decided to get a rose gold cuff bracelet engraved with the acronym, “JFDI,” which stands for “Just Fucking Do It.” I want to remind myself daily by wearing this that I need to simply sit my ass down and write whether I feel like it or not. However, despite this new beautiful addition to my jewelry collection, wearing it has yet to spur much action on the writing front.

I decided to journal about how I was feeling regarding writing this book and the following words spewed onto the page and as usual my own writing process has exposed me and shed some light on my avoidance:

“I believe a big part of my procrastination is that this is a painful story to share. When I sit down and write it, I have to dig deep in the dark recesses of my mind and retrieve memories that quite frankly hurt to hold onto. No one wants to admit that they lost the one thing that most of us would never fathom losing – their sanity. Let me be very clear here, “losing your mind” and “losing your sanity” are two very different things. One you have more control over and can recover from quickly while the other is a complete loss of control, a complete break from reality.

When you lose your sanity, you dissociate and your mind fractures into something unrecognizable. I am not saying you cannot come back from that but it’s harder to reconcile – that your mind was not your own. You’re scared shitless then reality slips back through the cracks and you wonder, “will that happen again?” Unfortunately for me it happened not once, but twice. You start to feel like a visitor in your mind and wonder when the darkness will come again and consume you.”

“You need to understand healing is a process, a journey unto itself.”

-Brittany Gushue

Now reading that back to myself after writing it was an “Aha!” moment in that I did not even realize I was harboring a deep rooted fear and pain towards writing this story. It’s understandable. I just didn’t know that this was yet one more thing holding me back from writing. I have decided to start slowly to confront the pain and sit with these memories a little bit everyday until I am ready to unpack them and process them. I believe through writing this book I can come to heal even more than I already have – and don’t get me wrong I’ve come a long way from those days spent rocking back and forth crying slumped against my bedroom door coming to terms with the fact I had lost my mind to a mental illness I was now saddled with for life. I spent days, weeks, and years drowning in grieve that I would never be “sane” or considered “normal.” I had a very real identity crisis accepting my bipolar disorder and letting go of the vision of myself pre-diagnosis.

I am in active recovery and have been stable on medication for years now and think it is finally time I start putting off my goal to write my memoirs. Is it scary? For sure, as I have laid out my thoughts above on it. Am I capable? Absolutely. I know in my heart of hearts this is something I was meant to do – to share my journey in the throes of mental illness so that someone trying to navigate those same waters may have a guidepost of hope to look to and understand that it does get better. I am living proof it does get better. I am not saying I do not still struggle with the inevitable ups and downs of this disorder but I have come to realize you need to give yourself grace. You need to understand healing is a process, a journey unto itself. I simply want to show that you can go from falling apart on your bedroom floor to managing your symptoms and picking yourself back up.

Keep on Healing,

All My Love,

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo,

BiPolarMania

“Just Keep It Movin…”

I listen to a lot of music lately (who am I kidding, I always do) but one artist has really stood out for me as a new great addition to my music library – Kiana Ledé. Her r&b vibes, smooth yet sexy voice, honest and clever lyrics make her a powerhouse of a female singer. I am drawn to her naturally during a time (post-break up) where I want to emulate her – a strong, beautiful, independent woman. The song that captured my attention right away was “cancelled.” as I can relate to it way too much right now. The beginning lyrics had me sold right away and I usually tune in or out of a new song within the first verse and she killed it, “I am a single queen, you know the fuckin’ vibes. Fuck men these days, fuck them all. They will hurt everyone’s feelings and fuck them all.” I could immediately identify with being a “single queen” and being over men to the point I am ready to say “fuck them all” myself – at least for now.

This song repeats “you know the vibes, vibes vibes” as its chorus tying back to the original verse and being a single queen. The fact is being single IS A VIBE – I am starting to realize and own again. There is a certain peace of mind when you are single that you can do, say and act however the fuck you want. I am not constantly thinking how my partner will interpret me and just doing me. I do not stress over whether him not texting me all day means he was busy? or because he just simply doesn’t give a shit about me? I am not insecure more than anything which I love! You would think the opposite would be true – having a relationship end usually fucks with the self-esteem. However, for me, this particular relationship ending boosted my confidence. I feel I can be my playful, sarcastic, insightful self again and one day maybe, someone won’t make me want to hide away those parts of me.

The third verse of “Cancelled.” also struck home cause I know it’s true but I needed to be reminded of it: “And you gorgeous, Fuckin’ gorgeous. You got options. Made bad choices. Only cry so much ‘Cause he lied too much. You don’t need nobody.” I felt like the end of my relationship was the end at my chance of love forever but I know I was being dramatic. Firstly, cause I never felt anything resembling love for this boy. Secondly, like Kiana sings in “Cancelled.,” “You gorgeous, Fuckin’ gorgeous. You got options. Made bad choices.” I have options for sure such as the option to explore myself instead of jumping into relationship after relationship. I made a bad choice by dating this boy but it isn’t the be all, end all. There will be other opportunities to grow, to love.

I have decided to “Just Keep It Movin” like Kiana sings in “Movin” (another great song!). I could easily fall apart and let the disappointment overcome me but I choose to move forward and focus on myself and my goals. The ironic thing is I lost site of them in my previous relationship – my goals. I was completely distracted and lost my sense of purpose in this life. I am excited to rediscover that, my purpose, and start working towards what I deem meaningful.

“Stay movin’
Yeah, just keep it movin’
Don’t let that little shit get to you, fuck up your groove
Yeah, stay movin’
Just keep it movin’ ” – Kiana Ledé (“Movin.”)

I am not going to get caught up in those post-break-up traps such as questioning my inherent value and whether or not I will ever be loved authentically. These hang ups are not nearly as important as what I need to discover – my life’s work. I want to take some time to figure out what I can do to get myself to a point to truly empower people – specifically young women with mental health issues. For now…I write this blog, but it’s not enough. I am finally in a place to admit that and work on finding my way into this world.

Always Moving Foward,

All My Love,

XOXOXOXOXO,

BiPolarMania

My First Galentine’s Day

Me Embracing the Love.

“Just because it isn’t an “official” holiday doesn’t mean it’s not important (like *coughs* the most important). Truly, if you’re going to pick one “fake” holiday to get pumped about, it shouldn’t be National Pizza or whatever else…it should be Galentine’s Day.”

According to Urban Dictionary, Galentine’s Day is celebrated on February 13, the day before that other made-up holiday (ahem, Valentine’s Day). It’s a day for celebrating the love you have for your lady friends, whether they’re single or not. Basically, it’s a day dedicated to showering your closest friends with love and attention…more than you do every other day.

Excellent question! The best thing about Galentine’s Day is that it was created by a fictional character: Leslie Knope of Parks and Recreation. In 2010, the second season of Parks and Rec included an episode called “Galentine’s Day,” in which Leslie gathers a group of her closest gal pals for a brunch of waffles and love. “Every February 13, my lady friends and I leave our husbands and our boyfriends at home and we just come and kick it, breakfast-style,” Leslie says in the episode. “Ladies celebrating ladies.” And thus, Galentine’s Day was unofficially added to everyone’s calendar. No, seriously: According to The Atlantic, it’s such a widely recognized fake holiday that some companies now run Galentine’s Day promotions. What could be more real than that? ((Where Did Galentine’s Day Come From – When Is Galentine’s Day (cosmopolitan.com))

I am celebrating my first Galentine’s Day with my best friend tomorrow on the heels of a break-up, ironically we decided to celebrate it before we broke up. I think in my heart of hearts I made these plans because I knew this relationship was never meant to last. I also shamelessly did not want to “not” acknowledge Valentine’s Day because last year I was in a very loving relationship and actually had a Ball! So I did not want to be disappointed this year or rather I did not want to feel that deep pit in my stomach (you all know the one). So I arranged some back up in the form of Galentine’s Day!

Yes I realize, we’re celebrating a day early but that’s due to schedules, the point is – the idea of showering your friend with love will be had! I wrote my best friend a love letter as part of a joke, but I do bear my soul and tell her how much I do genuinely care and appreciate her. I was mentioning to her how I wanted to write a love letter (to my now ex) and that I couldn’t think of anything nice to say and how the fuck was I supposed to write it at this rate!? And she said “fuck him! write me a love letter!” And then I explained to her Galentine’s Day and how we should celebrate it! She agreed!

So tomorrow I will be drinking wine and making crafts with my true love – my best friend! I will admit I’m a little broken hearted over the end of my relationship but I recognize it was not for me, like AT ALL. Who doesn’t love a day that celebrates loving your lady friends? I’ma love the shit out of this woman tomorrow. I like plan to shower this woman with affection! I even made her a cupcake!

But it shouldn’t just be the day, either Valentine’s Day or Galentine’s Day, that spurs you to action to give the one’s you love attention. Sprinkle Love everywhere…

All My Love,

xoxoxoxoxo,

BiPolarMania

Sever the Tie. Let That Shit Go.

I’ve been struggling a lot lately with the idea of who I want to keep and who I want to cut out of my life. I am at a point in my life where if a relationship is not serving me in some way than I do not feel it’s necessary to hold on to. I don’t think this is selfish but rather a very healthy mindset to have. At the end of the day, you have YOU for life (as I always like to say) and if the people in your life are not helping you grow, realizing your worth and value, or bringing some positive aspect to it than what really is the point?

Sever the Tie. Let That Shit Go.

I am too old for meaningless encounters and toxic people who only hold me back or make me question my value. I think it’s important to take stalk of your relationships as they develop and whether these people are growing with you or whether you’ve outgrown them. It’s okay to feel sad that a friendship or any relationship for that matter has reached its inevitable end. It’s okay to say “I’ve had enough” of being treated a certain way or had enough of the negative energy any one person may bring to your universe.

Let That Shit Go. Release The Toxicity.

I think what is key to ask yourself when analyzing these relationships is, “What does this person bring to my life?”  Are they a light? Or are they casting a shadow on your well-being? If keeping someone in your life is proving detrimental to your overall mental health, I hate to break it to you but it’s probably time to walk away.

At the end of the day, I want to be appreciated for well, being ME. I try to be as authentic as possible with how I present myself and tend to lay all the cards on the table. If that’s not enough or if someone does not appreciate where I am coming from in this life, then I am sorry but I choose ME and ultimately will walk away.

I guess what I am trying to say is you have one life, and the people you choose to include in it will affect your growth and potential exponentially. Keep your circle tight. Choose people who see your light and who root for you, who treat you with dignity and respect and above all accept you for YOU.

All My Love,

xoxoxoxoxoxo,

BiPolarMania

Let’s Talk About Suicide…(Trigger Warning)

A Sketch I drew in 2008 during my years attending High School.

I was looking through my old journals and sketch books for content for my book I am writing on my memoirs and unfortunately but fortunately stumbled upon this sketch and was reminded of how I used to feel and was a little shocked by the date this was drawn. As long as I can remember or at least vividly since I was 12, I recall struggling with deep deep depressions, the type that linger and leave you feeling deflated like there’s no hope or way out. I would spend hours crying in bed contemplating death, the meaning of life, what I deemed my shitty existence and when it was really bad I turned to darker thoughts – of ultimately ending my life. I always felt different and more emotional than other children, then teenagers, then adults. I reflected on everything, literally everything in painstaking detail. One simple thought could spin into ten others and suddenly I was wondering, “why am I alive? What’s the point of this? if this is all there is.”

I would later discover I have bipolar disorder type one and am thus prone to these deep depressions as part of a cycle involving periods of mania as well. I was up and then down, up again then crashing down back again, over and over again – it felt like a rollercoaster from hell. I naively thought my depression stemmed from feeling stuck as a child and then teenager in a city I hated, at a school I hated and resented with people I came to loathe. I thought by choosing a University far away in a large city would diminish these feelings and I would be more happy. This worked for awhile and proved a great distraction and new adventure but the pendulum is always swinging with my disorder and it would swing back into the dark depths of my mind again, and even harder this time.

I remember one month I did not leave bed to do anything except study and attend class when I did not accidentally sleep through it, always feeling lethargic since depression does take a physical toll on the body. I lost friends to my depression and one was brave enough to tell me the truth, that he could not bare to watch me fall further into the dark and he could not continue to try to rescue me from my mind. One of the scariest moments of my life was when I was put on antidepressants for the first time and was living on my own from home with roommates. I went to take a bath to relax and heard voices telling me to kill myself, to “just do it” and I had flashes of myself slitting my wrists and the blood draining into the tub. It felt visceral, so much so that I immediately jumped out of the tub, ran to my room and called my family who begged me to take a leave of absence from school and come home.

I would ultimately take this leave, spend months and I mean months in my bed watching tv to distract my mind from the swirling thoughts that I was not good enough and I could not cut it in this life. I would gradually recover, go back to school, then had my first psychotic episode leading to my official diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I experienced delusions and hallucinations that were not real and would eventually return home again to recover from this episode since my brain was super foggy from all the medications I could not even dream of studying so intensely as to finish my degree. This is when it turned darker for me and I would have my first ever suicide attempt (a silly one I’ll admit but the intent was very real) and subsequently be hospitalized for a few months for a major depressive episode featuring suicidal ideations.

On the 20th of November 2014, I was put on a form 1 at the Emergency Room after having confessed that I was experiencing frequent suicidal thoughts and that they were growing worse. My mother took me to the hospital after I admitted to her that during the night I tried to kill myself through water intoxication – drinking too much water. I had researched it and thought it was the easiest way to end my life without any pain or suffering. I drank several litres in a very short amount of time and became quite bloated and ended up puking it all up. It’s much harder to do than it sounds and as silly as it sounds it was my cry for help. It resulted in me being hospitalized for depression and I was put on a form one during my intake which allows a doctor to hold you in a psychiatric facility for up to 72 hours for psychiatric evaluation.

In my medical records it states that I admitted my thoughts of suicide were growing stronger over the past month prior to coming to the hospital. I mentioned I would have liked to inhaled gas fumes from a vehicle but had no access to a car. I theorized about drowning myself but realized it would be too painful and I would ultimately reactively grasp for air at the last second. I mention staying awake all night pacing the house while contemplating suicide. I remember vividly searching on Google obsessively ways to kill yourself without it hurting and continually came up with nothing that I had the means to do. I spent hours upon hours scouring the internet for a way out because I couldn’t see the point of living anymore. I felt like I had lost everything.

The thoughts became too much to bear and gradually shifted to even darker ones. I began to wonder “what is the point of life?” I have no purpose and if I have nothing to live for then maybe I should kill myself.” I convinced myself the struggle of my life and the deep-rooted shame I felt at having lost my mind, not just metaphorically but literally and clinically, was too much to handle. Needless to say I was not successful on my one and only suicide attempt. It scared me though into telling someone  – my mother – that I was experiencing persistent suicidal thoughts. I may not have killed myself up until that point but I could not be certain I would not try again, next time with something more lethal.

In the hospital, I would receive the medication that I needed and would be put on for life. I am happy to say I have not had suicidal thoughts or tendencies since this very dark episode. I was brave enough to reach out for help when I realized I could no longer help myself or my thoughts. My advice if you are struggling with these thoughts is to tell somebody, anybody before its too late. Go to the hospital, admit yourself, ask for help. There are all kinds of helplines as well if you feel you need to be talked off a ledge or just want to talk to someone in general (Google is your friend). But more importantly, you are not alone, many of us have been to that dark, scary place in our brains and I am proof you can come back and see the light.

Keep on Keeping On,

All my Love,

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo,

BipolarMania