So today, the first of February, 2010, I begin an interfacing journey of self revelation and exploration. I have never blogged before, but in the olden days (with only a Commodore 64) I wrote back and forth with Nursing professors (not theologians) for four years. My theme at that time was, "For me to live is Christ." The second part of that verse, the "to die is gain" part, I had figured out in early childhood; and after many attempts at "gaining", decided to try to live.
Let me explain. The grand-daughter of a bipolar woman, the daughter of a bipolar mother, I became the mother of two bipolar children. Somewhere along the way someone realized my tornado speed, my auctioneer speech, and my....ah...."blue" days, were merely symptoms of an illness. I wasn't, in fact, super wife, super mom, super writer, super christian; I was defective.
As an overachiever who collected ribbons and medals and certificates and A-pluses, that was just not tolerable. Wasn't I playing piano by age 4? Wasn't I on TV reciting poetry by age 5? Wasn't I the top of the class, the fastest runner, the best singer, the model child? Didn't I know that I was, in fact, superior to all of my peers, and most of my elders? (yeah....you loved to hate me!)
But when at age 35 I ran away from home, leaving my exciting nursing job and my beloved children and my faithful, dependable, husband, I was ready to imagine there was some "not my fault" explanation. Even a diagnosis was better than the 'burning at the stake' I deserved.
These days I'm not so super. A little wiser. A little humbler. A little fatter. But still full of things to say. I hope you will check in with me from time to time. Maybe we will be friends.
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