I know, it's not my real name. I'm not going to post that here because I have relatives that occasionally snoop around the internet and honestly I'm not too keen on them reading this at this point in my life.
Anyway, hi. For all intents and purposes, my name is Dorothy. I hail from a town in the midwest and I am in my early-mid twenties. I love small, scruffy dogs and I consider myself an artist, mostly in acting and singing, though I also love writing, drawing... anything that involves creating, really. It is my dream to pursue a career as an artist. I have a lot of talent to offer. However...
I am nowhere near a place in my life where I can be successful. I am lost in the strange, frightening world of mental illness.
The past year and a half of my life - really 2 years, since I graduated college - have been one hellish shitstorm. A giant tornado, if you will. It swept me off of my feet and caught me up in a vicious, violent downward spiral until I finally snapped and was planted face first into a strange world full of supportive individuals whom I quickly befriended. Yeah. I went to rehab. I healed a lot there. I was so broken when I went in, from a whole lifetime of verbal and emotional abuse, childhood trauma (nothing comparatively serious, but enough to really affect me), isolation and extreme self hatred. While I was at rehab, I experienced the feeling of self love, like, really felt it, for the very first time in my entire life. I felt safe, secure. I had friends who I connected to on an incredibly deep level. I was spiritually refreshed, confident, and keen on moving forward with my life.
Then I left. I came back to the gray, chilly rain of the midwest where I grew up and it's all gone to shit. I feel like I've lost my only healthy support system. I isolate again, I dwell on the negatives, I feel so hopeless here. I'm in limbo - just here to go to treatment M-F which provides a shell of the experience that rehab did - and then I'm moving (but more on that later). I'm learning coping mechanisms and new ways of thinking but I skipped it this morning because I just felt so fucking lousy. Which made me feel even lousier. So I said to myself, "Dorothy. You gotta hold yourself accountable for once." So, like I have my entire life, I turned to the internet. That's a viable support system, right? You gotta get it where you can...
So from here, I have to just follow the yellow brick road, I guess. More like the HELL-ow brick road. It's not going to be a cakewalk. My 'shadow' is one powerful motherfucker. And I am not really into the 12 step thing. It's just one step at a time down this banana-colored bitch. I'll need to pick up some friends, of course. Some smarts, some love, some courage and determination. Also a little scruffy dog. With all that in tow maybe I can make it to the emerald city of health and sunshine and puppies and success. Yeah. That would be swell. I guess we'll see.
PS. I know this was super hokey... trust me it will be much more normal in the future. I intend to use this blog to honestly document my dealing with and recovery from bipolar II disorder - and to also reach out to people also struggling with their mental illnesses but maybe don't know where to go from rock bottom. I guarantee you I will have lapses so you may experience disappointment, disgust, and disenfranchisement. But maybe it'll be an entertaining read, at the very least!