It takes a village...
I sought and had the support of many people right after getting out of the hospital. My psychiatrist remained my #1 ally in my fight against the after effects of my episode. Without her professional help I never could have built the foundation for my recovery. She guided me through medication changes, counseled me on how to proceed and educated me about bipolar disorder. I also had the guidance of a great therapist who heard me out. It is very traumatic to go through a prolonged hospitalization and she has helped me heal. I had a caseworker assigned to me by a group I was placed in who became my ally and friend. We worked together setting goals and moved forward to achieve them. It was a team effort!
I followed all the rules...
After the hospital I continued my care with trained professionals. I gave up fighting and doing things my way by following to the letter their recommendations. I only took steps that were directed by my medical support team. I took my medicine faithfully, on time only the right dose. I put my life in the hands of professionals and ignored the medical suggestions of anyone outside that circle. In a word I became compliant.
I accepted and sought the support of friends and family...
Sometimes it's hard to evaluate yourself in crisis mode. I gave up my right to do so by accepting the counsel of my inner circle. It wasn't always easy to listen to their evaluations of my recovery and I sometimes balked at their expectations of me. However they were the best barometer of my progress. For along time my recovery was slow and tedious. I had to build my life and psyche again bit by bit. They were there not only to love and support me but to set the bar high, not merely accepting that I get better but that I get well!
I cultivated courage and began to hope again...
In the beginning of my recovery I was a exhausted and hopeless. I was beginning at the beginning, and feeling weak and unsure of my ability to rebound from such a intense manic episode. I decided to determine in my mind to get well and fight for my life after a period of grieving and soul searching. At first I wasn't courageous or hopeful at all. I learned that these traits are not a given but must be learned by experience. Little by little, taking it one step at a time I plowed through the recovery process. It required every bit of grit I had in me. I tried to accomplish one thing every day even if it was as small as taking a shower or brushing my teeth. I made a list of my to dos for the day. Nothing was insignificant, each action was a stepping stone on my road to recovery. I learned that courage does not come naturally but has to be learned fight by fight. It slowly builds up with each little victory and eventually propels you to wellness. This is how I began to hope again. With each effort came the belief that "good things" would eventually happen. I made small goals and when I could check them off my list I made a new goal that was a little tougher. As I climbed my way up the wellness ladder, I would look back and be grateful for the accomplishments and look forward to the possibilities of the next day. I began to accept my illness, step up to the challenges in the present moment, and look forward to the future.I wish I could say that I have arrived at a state of complete recovery from my mental illness.
I haven't. It is a process and still needs to be worked on day by day. My progress has been slow. I still have had periods of depression and struggle with it's symptoms. No signs of mania but I wrestle with the fear that it might come around again. I have come a long way though and in retrospect appreciate that it took a lot of effort and support to do so. Everyone can fight a battle when they are sure of winning. It's a whole different matter when you are unsure of an outcome. I am still in the battle for my mind and I believe I am winning one victory at a time.
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