Friday the 13th

The date did not alarm me, in fact the date never has. I have actually seen Friday the 13th as a very interesting day, very curious to the idea that bad luck is lurking around ever corner. I never seen it as bad luck but just a sift in energies. A little eerie perhaps but I never woken up afraid to face the day that most considered dooms day. But this year this day has finally showed me why it could be the worst day ever.

I started the day with very high spirit's my daughter was going to be spending the weekend with me, I had us set to volunteer at the color festival at Gibson Ranch Saturday, Church on Sunday with a super mega breakfast, to top it off I had bought Sy'raia her first cell phone (Tablet too!!) So you see I was over ecstatic to have the whole weekend with me and baby.

Now here is some of the history with my daughter

1. I struggled from the moment I found out I was pregnant with dealing with my place as a mother

2. I was very afraid I would end up like my mother, & I thought I could not be a good mother for I came from one that did not know how herself

3. In the beginning I felt it was better that she did not have me, afraid I would hurt her.

4. I was numb to even having a child, I did not feel no connection, no mother instinct, no nurturing bone. I was dead inside

5. I got her from Long Beach in the end of 2006, previously she was living with her biological father

6. My father has been her guardian since middle of 2009 till 2012 due to what I now know was a manic episode (I left with no word of where I was going and did not contact anyone for several months)

7. 2013 I moved back home after my breakup and suicidal attempt, it was just her and I in a small bedroom. I was horrify!!!

8. Needless to say, something magical happened.

9. We BONDED!!!! we laughed, we played, we became so affectionate towards each other. She loved me unconditional. She still LOVED ME like I never left her

10. I began to want to regain my parental duties

11. I did the things that I never fully committed to like getting her ready for school, helping with homework, attending teacher conferences, attending her events, & most of all teaching her about life

12. The Lord has opened my mother instinct and I for the first time have fallen in love with the girl I given birth to

13. It took me 9 years but I found the piece that was missing

So now that you have some history of the past relationship with my little one now I will tell you some history of the relationship with me and my father

1. Parents divorce when I was 12, father struggled with a drug addiction most on my life

2. When I was 18 we re-established our relationship after being gone in my adolescence years

3. 2006 I moved to Sacramento to try to get a grip on my life

4. My father has been a huge help when it came to rasing my daughter, and he has tried to help me with gaining control of my life

5. Little did he or I know my bipolar disorder was becoming worst

6. Needless to say the illness has formed a huge wedge between us due to the disappearing, poor money management, bad communication skills and the list goes on

7. After my manic episode in 2009 that pretty much killed any real connection I could of had with my father. We hardly spoke or seen each other

8. There was a tiny glimpse of hope when I was attending fashion school and he in school for music, we bonded over our passion for learning and creativeness

9. But all that went out the door when I moved back home in 2013

10. I never got a grip on my bipolar even after being diagnosed in 2012 so I was unable to control the mood swings

11. February 2014 I fell into the worst depression I've ever experienced, that was the end of our relationship and from now on I was an outcast (he has not nor chooses to understand what I fight with)

12. So when you have someone that does not understand, they can often times become the trigger that sets up into manic or depression

13. He sets my depression, and now I am about to be faced with a custody battle that scares me to death

　

Now back to the story....

　

Because I have limited communication with my father (I had to it only caused me to spiral) I depended on my siblings to be the mediator for us to talk about my daughter. I had express numerous times that I have to get my health in check before I can have her move with me permanently. I explained that I have doctor appt set up and if we can arrange for her to stay until at least after my first 2 appts. that would help me tremendously. Well obviously that was going to be a problem as my father was ready to retire from taking care of her, which I 200% understood. He has bent over backwards to do the things that I could not do previously, even when battling with cancer he was always there for her, and I could never be more grateful for the sacrifices he has made. He was my hero, but only if he really understood that I was thankful for this help.

So I have to say that I did become a little panicky. I just moved on my own, I was still at my job after missing large amounts of days, and I was just getting over the sever depression I had a month back. I was afraid that I was 1. going to relapse 2. fail 3. lose ground. I of course could not express this to anyone in my family as again I have ZERO support when it comes to my mental illness. I start to second guess myself shortly after, I am being stupid? selfish? She is though my responsibility, Do I not care? What will happen to us?

But my sister came through and asked our mother if she can keep her for the summer, I have to say that I was relieved even with my ill feelings I have towards my mother. False hope is the worst feeling you can give anyone. I rather just know the real from the start. So it was confirmed Sy'raia would be leaving to LA in 2 weeks and she will return when school starts, enough time to regroup, focus on my health, and try to build some savings.

　

Well that changed on Friday the 13th

Apparently nothing that I've been communicating with my sister was getting communicated to my father. So he was under the impression that my daughter was moving with me on the 13th. WHOA!! STOP RIGHT NOW!!!!

I have no child care lined up, no one to care for her during working hours, no money I have spent every penny to move in so I was still trying to recover, so that meant I had no way to stock on food to fed the two of us or no money for transportation. Admittedly I start to have a panic attack right there with my sister and daughter and a car full of her things. I PANICKED!!!!! I ask to dismiss myself because I felt it coming and all I wanted to do was get out of sight from Sy'raia so she didn't see the hyperventilating, the crying the shaking... etc I just could not have her see the disease not like this.

　

That lead to an unfortunate spiral of an all out psychotic episode that ended with my manager, security guards, and sheriffs at my home. I black out and attacked anyone that was in my way (holding knifes did not help this situation either) All the time I was having this episode not my father, sister, or brother was there to help me. They just left me there to try to pick up the shattered pieces. Only one true and faithful friend was there YVETTE TORRES. I had to go to the hospital to check my finger that I accidentally cut in the episode and as I came out of it I was just shell shocked. lost, confused, scared, alone, shook up, and most of all HURT. I came back home that morning and all I could do was cry, my new home ruin with these new horrific images, I could not stop my mind from playing the evening over and over. I could not sleep, I could not be alone, I was becoming mute and I was losing ground.

　

What started out as a fun loving unforgettable weekend ended in a horrible unforgettable day.

　

Friday the 13th will be the worst day for me

Resilience

Resilience, can be an oxy moron when paired with someone with bipolar disorder. You may say how can someone with bipolar be resilient? When its stress and madness that causes to break. People with mental illness are view by society as weak and fragile. But in reality we are the strongest individuals out there. and this is why. Imagine the constant stress and agonizing feeling of knowing you will be battling serious highs and serious lows for the rest of your life. and in those lows you sometimes come face to face with death, but its the determination and thick skin that allows you to always end up laughing in death's face over and over again. When you are locked inside of a psychiatric hospital away from family and friends, locked away because for a second there you broke. But its the power to stand up that's inside of me that pushes me to return to life outside those doors once more. and sometimes knowing that yes I may return again but each visit just makes me stronger and stronger. I have leaned on my ability to create as my crutch to stay strong. Playing with colors and word play. Using the bad and good experience as a way to paint the ups and downs in my life, to share and to inspire. This is why I am resilient. To give back to show the world that yes I may be fragile at times. and yes sometimes my emotions I just can't control. But without the daily battle I could not be creative. This madness, this sadness is mine to creative for you and me.

How I got Here

2013 I was living in a manic world.

At the start of the year of 2013, 5 days after the new year I tried to commit suicide. My relationship with the love of my life had ended a month prior, and I was in the deepest depression that I have thought I could feel. When I was released from the pysh center I had no chose but to return home to my family and most of all my daughter. But I had no idea still how to cope with this bipolar thing that just kept lingering in my life. I was down for the next few months, but when the sun started to shine my manic starts to rise. You see my moods are severely effected by the weather. In the winter seasons I experience the most depression, and as soon spring comes, I go into a high energy swing.

My ex and I started being friends again in April (love can make manic even more extreme), I just landed 2 new jobs while still working my third (no way I should have been working 3 jobs), & I was trying to be the perfect mother because I have failed horribly in the past. Add buying a new car, which my father co- signed for (another bad idea for anyone going through a manic episode) and now I've fully fed my manic. The next 8 months I had decreased sleep, 8 months of rapid thoughts, grandiose ideas, lost of memory, bad budgeting and the list goes on. I stopped my medications, never had time to go to group sessions, or no one to check in with. I literally was living my life as if I had no bipolar, or at lease that is what I told myself, I was cured in my head. But that was what the problem was, it was all in my head.

When looking back on the previous year through some of my sporadic journals I seen that I was trying to pinpoint the madness, and I tried mentally to pump the brakes. I literally seen the rapid cycling in my journal entries. The highs one hour the lows the next. But it only got worst, the presence of the New Year had spun my manic into overdrive and I was charged with the idea of starting all anew. No bipolar, no manic, no depression, no need for meds or doctors. "These are just positive thoughts, can't I have a good feeling for my future?" Not when your bipolar, anything can trigger an episode. Holidays, weather, conversations, thoughts, songs, etc. I've managed to have a total of 5 jobs by end of the year, newly experiencing raising a child who's energy only matched mine (I should of known if I could keep up with my then 9 year old that something is wrong ). But I could not catch myself and I could not stop the crash that was soon to come.

The switch was brought on by the stress of my family having to move from my fathers 5 bedroom home. I was behind in my car note and insurance, I had dental work done which also caused me to fall into the depression, and once I was there, I could not for the life of me snap out of it and I was afraid. Afraid that I was about to let my family down again. Afraid that my weakness was going to show again. Afraid that I was going to end my life this time for real. So I ran away to hide what was about to surface, the good and the bad had come and gone but it was about to get ugly and I did not know how to let them see that side of me.

I completely crashed in February 2014, I left home distraught and filled with hatred for myself, for not being strong enough to fight my dark passenger (Dexter fans will understand that lingo). I turned to substance abuse, cutting, and promiscuous sex in hopes it would jautle me back to life, because inside I was dead. But eventually I had to place myself into care for 72 hours because I was spiraling as I call it. But once out I tried to explain to my family what was going on, and it did nothing but caused more problems and I found myself homeless and that was when I landed in the belly of the beast. The worst depression I have every experienced in my life and for the longest period. For the next 2 months I self harmed and I self medicated. I missed large amounts of work because I could not get out of the bed (thank God I have the best boss who has been over supportive). I locked myself in bathrooms laying on the floor crying with blood running down my arms, I wanted to go I was not cut out to deal with this illness. this curse as I use to call it. I wanted out of this misery.

I fought my depression cold turkey (I DO NOT RECOMMEND THIS PLEASE ALWAYS SEEK MEDICAL HELP WHEN DEALING WITH DEPRESSION) I was not on medication nor was I seeing a doctor. Honestly it was my faith, meditating when I could, and finally reaching out to people on my facebook that help me through it successfully. But most of all it was my little girl who helped me through this, hearing her laughter, her joy from deep inside, her unconditional love for me has saved me.

Today I have been in my new apartment that I just moved in on 5/16/2014, I have been blessed with furniture, and food to eat while I get back on my feet. I still have my job and I am only a 10 minute walk away. I have a new voice now because of this, a purpose has arise in me to put a stop to the stigma that is associated with mental illness, especially when it comes to the African American culture. The lost support I have received from my own family or the support from anyone that has the same color as me has to be stopped. When I attend groups or when I see the people that are out about their illness there is a small percentage of then that are minority. Why is that? Well I am going to find out and I am going to change that.

The biggest component to helping someone with mental illness is the support, without it we fall. We are not as strong as you, we have a illness that can not be physically seen, but it cripples us. So I beg of you that know someone that is suffering with a mental illness that you be there, because that's the difference between someone who survives and lives a "normal" healthily life and someone who lives in darkness and confusion for the rest of their life.

Writing to You

I have always been a writer, since I can remember I have developed a bond with a pen and pad that could never be broken. My silent thoughts spilled out on what use to be a blank sheet of paper. The things I could not say, or wanted to say but didn't know how, sat perfectly on those thin lines. I often would look over my thoughts and wonder where is the magic when I am trying to say these things, because I am totally opposite when presented the opportunity to say whats on my mind. I freeze, all intellect is gone, and I can feel the burning dislike in myself for not saying what the heck is hurting me, makes me feel great, when need to explain my ideas. I choke.
Whenever I needed to express my admiration for someone I wrote it in a letter, when I needed to release my emotions, I wrote poetry,when essays where given out I leaped with joy while others cringe at the thought of writing another 6 page essay.I was thinking how was I going to stop writing at 6 pages.  Journal writings, diary letters, you name it, it was a source of comfort for me  and the only way knew ow to speak.
I have been since I was a child haunted with a dream for years, simply not having a voice, I scream, I try with my hardest to talk, but nothing ever comes out. Just a mute girl wishing to be able to say whats on my mind. I'm 29 years old and I still have this dream. I don't know what it all means ut I can only tell you nothing is more taunting them not being able to voice your thoughts.
So I guess that is why I lean to creating, the freedom to express yourself with words, colors, music, and dance.  I may not be able to tell you why I love you verbally, but I could with a song, with a poem, or with colors.  I may nt be able to express whats going on in my head, but if you take a look at my poetry and feel the words, you'll be able to see the picture I painted for you with words. These are my words, and I want to share them with you.