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

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

Do You Think You Might Be Going Insane Again?

I recently had a major shift in my life in that a very serious relationship of mine came to its end. I have been coping very well compared to times in my past where I would just lose it in sorrow. I recognize now that I am older that sometimes things just don’t work out or go according to plan. I also know I gave my whole heart to this relationship and have no regrets. Is it a let down? Absolutely. But I am already getting over it and for some reason my family thinks that is a sign I might be mentally unstable again. I resent that.

My mother approached me recently and said “Do you think you might be going insane again?” She claims she is worried because I party too much, am constantly meeting new people, and am modelling again. She said it’s okay to be upset right now that something major has changed in your life. But honestly what if I am not upset? I am just doing me, is that such a crime?

I am a little offended that she would compare what I am doing right now to when I was in the throes of mental illness. I was acting super bizarre and had delusions of grandeur back then and now I am honestly just chilling enjoying myself and life. Everyone is looking at me like I am breakable and about to break but I am the strongest I have ever been because I know in my heart of  hearts that I am capable of more – more love and more potential.

When someone tells you they think you might be going insane you start to question yourself and think “well shit, am I going insane?” I mean I have no racing thoughts, no desire to partake in risky behavior and am still rocking the sober life (from drugs). I never realized moving on with your life and doing you would mean you come off as crazy to others. Don’t get me wrong I did some grieving. I put on every sad song I could think of and balled my eyes out reflecting on what and who I had lost. The next day though I picked myself off the floor and carried on. If that makes me seem crazy then so be it.

Everyone copes and moves on differently from things. This time around I chose to do it in a healthy manner and celebrate me. I realized things are fleeting and I want to enjoy my life right now and for what it is and should be – a good time. I also recognize for once that it was not my fault it ended, far from it. Some things are just not meant to be and this was a situation that was definitely not meant for me. I am done feeling like shit, doubting myself, and putting myself down for every little thing that does not quite go the way I expected.

At the end of the day just remember to be true to yourself and if people don’t like that then honestly they can go fuck themselves. I am doing me now more than ever and plan to keep it that way. However, with my history of poor mental health, I will be sure to reach out to loved ones the instant I feel something may be bothering me or wrong. I have learned from my mistakes and that’s all you can really do.

barry2

A Picture of me (Modelling) moving the fuck forwards.

My Lovely Wife in the Psych Ward

scott-broome-4KlDZK1xWqw-unsplash

I had the great pleasure of reading Mark Lukach’s memoir “My Lovely Wife in the Psych Ward” recently. It was interesting to read from the perspective of a loved one and their experiences dealing with the mental health of their significant other. It’s easy in the struggle to maintain sanity to forget that it is not just you struggling but rather your family is right there with you. Lukach details the account of his wife Guilia’s several stints in the psych ward in a relatively short span of time. Mark speaks about his feelings of abandonment from the  professionals at the Emergency Room who sent his wife Guilia home with medication instead of admitting her when she was having delusions of the Devil.

Mark and his in-laws would ultimately have to bring her back to the ER when she had more ramblings about the Devil and how he is still here and that she protected them from him. They gave her Ativan to calm down and through the fog of it she said “Mark, I am the Devil.” The on-call psychiatrist stated that she would need to be admitted and treated. Mark remembers this moment, “I knew that this was coming, that this was the inevitable next step in the process, but it still felt surreal.”

I realized while reading this book, I never truly thought about my parents and what they had to go through when I was admitted to the psych ward. Did it feel surreal to them? Were they upset? Did they feel as though they had failed me? Dealing with the pain of being forced to be hospitalized left me with no room to consider these questions until now. I feel so incredibly selfish that it took until now to reflect upon them. I hope they know they did everything they could to take care of me but that psychosis is inevitable when untreated for bipolar disorder. I wonder if it was a shock to them that I was being diagnosed with bipolar and sometimes I wonder if they think less of me for it. I know my mother never likes the word being uttered around family or in public as if I was saying God’s name in vain.

Mark’s wife was admitted on a form 5150 which means she was involuntarily checked in and needs to spend 72 hours there as required by law. He describes his first visit with her at the psych ward and it is heart wrenching. She screams at them to leave and that the Devil is there and wants them. She was hysterical with fear and screamed “Don’t you dare come near me!” At one point she rolled onto her back and started to chant “I want to die, I want to die, I want to die.” Mark recalls this moment, “I’m not sure which scared me more: listening to my wife whisper her death wish or scream it.” Throughout all this Mark continued to support his wife and assured her that the Devil would not get her or him and that their love was stronger than any of it, they would get through this.

I similarly had a moment in the psych ward where I wanted to die. They had me on a heavy dose of lithium which we have now learned does not work for me and actually makes me more depressed and suicidal. I laid in the hospital bed crying that I wanted to be with my father and that I thought I was ready to be with him (my father died years ago). My mother just held me crying and I eventually drifted off to sleep and waking to a new day in which they decided to take me off lithium  and instead put me on a nice healthy dose of anti psychotics. Anti psychotics have worked for me then and ever since – keeping me stable.

Once Lukach’s wife was discharged from the hospital she slumped into a eight month depression following her psychosis where she fixated on suicide and was extremely lethargic from the medications she was put on. She was discharged with no firm diagnosis but the doctors had ruled out schizophrenia. Lukach writes, “We had no clear explanation for what had gone wrong. It was probably related to a combination of lack of sleep, stress, hormones, and chemicals in her brain, but not even her clinicians knew what it was.” This meant they did not know if it would come back, however, ninety percent of the time psychosis recurs. They went on with their lives hoping that Guilia  was of the ten percent but as time would tell she was in fact part of the ninety percent.

The reason this book stands out for me not only because it is a memoir about a husband’s experiences with his bipolar wife’s psychosis, but also because it highlights the other side – the caretaker’s struggle with mental health. Lukach mentions he also started seeing a therapist while Guilia was unwell. The therapist wanted to know why Mark wanted so badly to be Guilia’s hero. Mark writes: “I wasn’t too interested in understanding why I devoted to much of my caregiving to Guilia. To me, the answer was simple and cliched: love.”

Mark mentions feeling like shit all the time and wanting to know why. He had never felt so disinterested and lethargic before in his life and was used to having an excessive amount of energy. His therapist said of course he feels like shit because he has been through a lot the past nine months with one month of his wife’s psychosis and following eight months of depression. She also points out that “the worst is over but everything you once knew is gone. The love you had with Guilia, the way you once knew it, is gone.”

Mark reflects on this realization: “Nothing could ever be the same. Our bliss, our puppy love from college, our charmed lives, it was all gone. Guilia’s psychosis and depression would color the rest of our relationship. Maybe even my own happiness wouldn’t come as easily as it always had. I would have to work for it and have the courage to do the work.”

Guilia would eventually end up back in the psych ward following the birth of their son Jonas, after tapering off lithium mostly because she would not be able to breast-feed on it. Instead of a psychosis fixated on hell though this psychosis would fixate on the notion of heaven. After days of not sleeping and rambling about heaven being earth she was admitted to the psych ward for her second time in three years. The doctor believed Guilia was suffering from postpartum psychosis. The doctor would eventually officially diagnose Guilia with bipolar disorder I, characterized by soaring highs and crippling lows. Guilia somehow experienced both as negatives with her mania fast-tracking into psychosis, with paranoia and delusions. The doctor made it clear she will have to be on lithium for the rest of her life.

Guilia would be released from her second stay at the psych ward after thirty two days. Mark would end up feeling uneasy with the two hospitalizations and begin to research bipolar more thoroughly. He spoke with Sasha Altman DuBrul, one of the founders of the Icarus Project, an alternative medical health organization that calls mental illness “the space between brilliance and madness.” Sasha introduced to Mark the concept of a mad map. Mad maps allow psychiatric patients to outline what they’d like their care to look like in future mental health crises. They are designed to encourage patients to plan ahead in order to give them more control and avoid, or at least minimize future mistakes.

They came up with a plan for if Guilia starts to relapse again. If she can’t sleep again, she will take one milligram of Risperdal (an antipsychotic) by midnight. If she still can’t sleep by two a.m., she will take two more milligrams for a total of three. Guilia would relapse again and even though she followed the mad map she would end up in the hospital a third time. However, this time, she was discharged after thirteen days – the shortest of all her stays. This may be because they had the safety net of the mad map which lessened the blow of her episode with medication ahead of time instead of only after the fact.

This book was a beautiful account of a husband’s struggle and triumph being his mentally ill wife’s caregiver. It addresses resentments felt and issues with the mental health system. Mark stands by his wife through three psychotic breaks and proves what true love looks like – it is kind, understanding and supportive. He even struggles with his own depression as a result of his wife’s mental health but finds solutions such as exercising regularly and seeing a therapist. The one thing Mark never does is give up on his wife. He genuinely stands by the vow “in sickness and in health” which some not as strong as him may have taken Guilia’s illness as a way to cop out.

If you are looking for a book that shows the other side of mental health – the side with loved ones who struggle to grapple with and understand their significant other’s mental illness – then look no further. This book has shown me what a true caregiver looks like and how they struggle with a variety of feelings. This book is called “My Lovely Wife in the Psych Ward” and it is written by one of the loveliest husbands who in my opinion is a hero, a hero to Guilia.