As I begin documenting some key moments in my past that led me to seek the help I needed to heal, I want to be honest in the fact that I needed several different kinds of help.

I was referred to EMDR therapy while simultaneously being diagnosed with Bipolar 2 disorder. I was depressed before I lost my son. I was treated for depression long before I became a mother.

This played out in many ways and guided my path in many ways. I was fearful. I was dependent. I was codependent. And I was really, really sad.

I tell you this because today, I am feeing mentally unhealthy. It doesn’t feel like a typical low. I’m very sleepy and I lack motivation. A lot of things feel overwhelming. I’m already imagining how I might disappoint those around me.

It’s not typical because of how typical it is. It feels like depression. But now, because I have done the work, I can look at it differently. Something in my brain feels off. My thoughts are racing and I’m being irrational. I know that.

I filled my medicine box today and discovered I missed a few days of a couple different meds. And I can feel that I am unbalanced.

But instead of apologizing, powering through until I crash even harder, or telling myself horrible things, I am going to accept it and do whatever feels right. I will rest and I will recover.

I know how to take care of me. But it took a long, long time to get here.