We all take turns being the "stressor" in our house. Sometimes I neglect my self care and start getting cranky, yelling and stomping around the house like a child. Sometimes Husband forgets to take his medication and starts getting incredibly scatter-brained and wonky. Sometimes Oldest's hormones go wild and she regresses into age-inappropriate behavior. And, sometimes, something triggers Middle or Little and we have weird behavior and meltdowns all night (or, occasionally, all week)....more
The Newlywed GameI sat on the curb of Main Street, Disneyland my lips covered in cinnamon sugar from the churro I just inhaled. I looked over at Mr. Price who had the same crystal covered lips. He had a "Just Married" Disney button proudly pinned to his shirt and a huge smile spread across his face. We were waiting for a parade to start and these churros had become our nightly ritual while on our honeymoon. "Thanks for marrying me," he said as he clutched my hand and took another bite of his Disneyland delicacy....more
I sat in a makeshift hospital room my bare knees peeking through the thin gown I was provided with. There was no medical equipment, not even a sink or cabinets, just four blank white walls. I felt as though they may as well have put me in a straight jacket and padded the walls. Tucked in the corner of the room situated on the only chair provided was my mom. In a pile on the end of hospital bed, which was more like a low to the ground massage table, sat my clothes. I stared down at my goose bump covered legs, my exhausted face stained with tears....more
One of the overwhelming goals of my 365 autobiographical-essay-a-day project was "writing as therapy." I theorized that getting “it" all out of my head (while learning what "it" was) would ease my anxiety and panic disorder.
Originally posted at Girl Gone Feral - July 6, 2016.I’m afraid of the dark. In the dark, my imagination runs wild. I imagine I can see red eyes staring at me from the corner of the room or that if I look out a dark window too long, something will appear, staring back at me. I won’t sleep with a foot or a hand hanging over the edge of the bed in case something under the bed reaches up and drags me under....more
I can’t think back to a time when my feelings weren’t INTENSE. No matter what I felt, I experienced it with an exclamation point and it often swung like a pendulum between mildly euphoric and mildly depressed. I was never clinically diagnosed as bipolar because the logical part of my brain is still able to trump the spontaneous one, and seizes control no matter how many hormones surge through my veins.
Originally posted on Girl Gone Feral - July 5, 2016.I used to like to move around a lot. Not to a new place in the same town, but usually to an entirely different region. After high school, I moved halfway across the country. Then I went to Germany for six months. Then I moved closer to home – about a ten hour drive. I kept repeating the steps, even after I met Doc. I’d never get close enough to home to visit my friends and family without needing to make an expedition out of it....more
Mental illness doesn’t mean you deserve to live in fear of your feelings. I’ve been told in the past that when I explain my feelings to someone, it often sounds “rehearsed.” I’ve been told I explain things clearly and speak deliberately.As much as I’d love to preserve the idea that I’m just some sort of genius when it comes to language, this is very much a deliberate move.My name is Matt Joseph Diaz, and I have lived with Bipolar II Disorder since 2013....more
What others see as a 'contradiction' is really our best attempt at surviving. Y’all, I’m basically celebrating my tenth anniversary of insanity. Insaniversary? Is that a thing? Can we make that a thing? (...Okay, so according to Twitter, Insaniversary is kind of a thing. By some ableist gym in the Bronx. But I'm ignoring them. Tweet me about your first episode. #insaniversary)...more