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Sunday, November 17, 2013

Dirty Laundry


 
I am so grateful for the outpouring of love and support I’ve received from so many.  You are so kind.  Sadly, there are those who feel my announcement to the world of being bipolar through the ideal opportunity of an 8 Things You Might Not Know About Me Facebook post is “airing dirty laundry”—something best kept private.


And to those I say pish posh.  You are looking through dirty windows, my friends.  (See the fantastic video below.)

Mental illness is NOT dirty laundry!  But while we’re on the subject, there are a few things I’ve come to know about dirty laundry in the last nine years I’ve been washing it.  (Thank you Mom for doing the first 17 years!)

1.       Dirty laundry is a result of living.

And if you never have any laundry to wash, you must be wearing the emperor’s new clothes in a world where everything is spring meadow fresh.  The dirtiest clothes make for the best stories—like the time a service project turned into a mud fight, or the time I ran the Dirty Dash, or the time I painted my living room Sweet Honey Yellow.  The same goes for life—truly living makes for the best stories, even if those stories aren’t joyous.  Even sad and difficult stories can have a positive impact, which brings me to my next point.

2.       Everyone seeks tips and tricks.

As we all do laundry, we share ideas of what works to remove certain stains.  Once in a while we might be able to share what we’ve heard will make it better.  More often, the best way we can help someone remove those stains is to have worked through that stain ourselves.  That is why it is so important to be open about our struggles—we all need help with our laundry.  When we were dealing with infertility, some of my greatest support came from those who had experienced or were currently experiencing the same longing.  We each had different details, but to some degree we knew what it was like to deal with that laundry.

3.       If we threw it all into a pile, we’d want ours back.

My parents like to say that if everyone took all of their problems and threw them into a pile so we could pick out something different, we’d each run to the pile to get our own back.  The grass stains are not always lighter on the other side of the laundromat.

4.       Everyone is so much more than their dirty laundry.

What a sad world it would be if we defined people by the spots on their clothes and the spots in their lives.  Sure, one or two or three shirts may have a spot, but look at all the rest of that person’s laundry!  Look at the PERSON wearing that laundry. When I worked at A&W in high school, I’m sure a lot of people could have seen me in my uniform and said wow… look at that ice cream all over that girl’s apron, or eww check out that grease stain, but I hope they realized I was more than a fast food worker.  The greater part of me was a singer, a writer, an actress, a scholar, a volunteer—but what really defines me is my soul.  Souls are so much more than spots or stains.

5.      Dirty laundry is not going to stay that way forever.

Somehow, someday that laundry is going to be clean again.  Maybe not right now, but eventually, and through the grace of God those spots and stains will be removed. How grateful I am.
 
 

Thursday, November 14, 2013

Making Sunshine


Since this whole thing started in April, I've been working on figuring out the right medications and the right dosages.  And while they keep me from being constantly manic, sometimes I feel too down.  I didn't realize how down I was though, until my new psychiatrist suggested Latuda. It's new on the market and just this summer was officially approved to treat the depression side of bipolar. What a miracle. Regular anti-depressants aren't good for bipolar because they actually enhance the mania, leading to the higher likelihood of a major crash but this one doesn't.  (Hahaha... I totally sound like one of those prescription commercials, don't I?!)

I started taking the sample packs of Latuda the doctor gave me and almost immediately could tell a difference.  I felt lifted.  I had more energy and I was so happy.  And I didn't feel manic-- restless or like I had to do a million things at once, or like I didn't ever have to sleep, and when I did sleep I didn't have crazy promiscuous party-it-up dreams.  I felt like me.  An even better version of me than I remembered.  Ah, Latuda.  It is EXACTLY what I need. 

And then I went to fill the prescription.  The one my insurance doesn't cover.  The one I can't get financial assistance for because I have insurance.  The one that costs $635 a month. 

Well, at least when it goes generic in six years, I know what works.  So... now I'm tapering down from my happy pill...at the onset of winter.  And ordering my tickets to Hawaii, or Southern California, or Arizona--just anywhere sunny and warm.  Okay, so really I'm doing the next best thing--ordering full spectrum lights to trick my heart into feeling like we're in Hawaii.  Hopefully.

In the meantime I like to think of other ways to make sunshine and listen to this tender mercy of a talk from God through Elder Holland:
http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng#watch=video