I was born in 1971 and grew up in Sheridan, Colorado - a small suburb south of Denver. I had a relatively uneventful yet memorable childhood; I was the classic underachiever in high school, and just barely graduated in 1989 with absolutely no idea of which direction to go in next. I dabbled in creative writing and photography classes, worked various dead-end jobs and watched my friends go to college, join the military and/or start getting married. In 1995 I too got married, mostly because I figured that is what I was supposed to do. I got my first 'white collar' job and proceeded to play house. After about a year or so of that; I realized I didn't like being married and I certainly didn't feel ready to breed - so in January of 1997 I moved into an apartment and eventually got divorced.
1997 was an interesting year, I was 26 years old and still felt lost. I have fond yet alcohol-soaked memories of nightclubbing, hanging out with a really fun group of people, the boyfriend parade, and generally feeling like I was cruising along holding my breath. In 1998, that breath was completely knocked out of me.
I am the second youngest out of five siblings. I have two older sisters, an older brother and a younger brother. My family was pretty close and even at the age of 27 I was a complete mamas girl. My younger brother Mike and I had been talking about moving to Florida together and were tentatively planning on the fall of 1998. In March of 1998, Mike went into the hospital with a particularly nasty bout of pneumonia that he could not seem to kick. My family rallied; we figured he'd be there for a few days and then back home. Then we got news that none of us were expecting - my little brother Mike had AIDS.
He was in the ICU for six weeks. The doctors told us there was no hope for recovery; he was going to die. We held onto hope. We prolonged the inevitable. We had to make the decision to not intervene one last time then we sat together, as a family, one last time - as my little brother slipped away. He was only 24 years old.
This sent us reeling. We all tried to cope the best we could. I'd never dealt with death before, I had no idea how to grieve. I tried to continue on business as usual but then in May, just a month after my little brother passed away - my family was dealt more bad news. My mother had been diagnosed with cancer.
Grief for the loss of Mike was shelved. Energy was focused on mom. I went into a state of denial. I couldn't handle seeing her, seeing how chemotherapy ravaged and changed her. She stayed positive; I stayed away. Then in October - just six months after my family sat and watched my little brother die - we did it again with my mom.
I can honestly say that I pretty much lost my mind after that. I felt frantic, scrambling in different directions, making poor decisions; pushing my grief into a box inside of my soul and not tending to it. I went numb. I met a man who was 12 shades of wrong for me, but he was a widower and he understood my pain. I'll refer to him as R. He told me I needed to grieve and he gave me a safe place to do so. With a deep breath I opened that box; and I was plunged into hell.
In 2000, concerned for my mental well-being I guess, R made me go to a shrink. After 4 visits I was diagnosed as having Bipolar disorder and put on Lithium and Zyprexa. This took the hell I was already experiencing to a whole new level - that entire situation requires a blog of its own.
Against my better judgement, I married R. After a painful experience of just how selfish he is, I had the Essure procedure done [permanent sterilization] to ensure I never got pregnant with him again. I felt trapped and didn't want to make that any more solid by adding children to the mix.
I refer to the span of 1998 - 2004 as the dark years. I have vague recollections of the events of those years; particularly '99-'03. I kept journals but reading back through them is painful. At the present time I can no longer relate to that person. And I am grateful for this.
My marriage to R ended in 2005. I was finally healthy enough and strong enough to walk away from the worst period in my life. I moved out and within a very short time I met my current husband. You always find it when you least expect it...
My life has leveled out and my new journey is all about reclaiming and rediscovering my soul and my passions. I stopped taking ALL head-meds in 2006 and have been managing my bipolar disorder naturally since then. I have a great job that I've been at for 2 1/2 years, and my current relationship is solid. I am, however, struggling with the fact that I will be 40 next year and I feel like I missed out on a huge chunk of my life. There are things I'm doing now that I couldn't do then - and sometimes I feel awkward. I'm working on getting past that. Life is meant to be savored, so right now I am taking the time to slow down and learn how to taste it...
