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There was a fire on our street this morning. Loads of fire engines and ambulances. But no one was hurt, so that’s a blessing. But it has affected me in a bad way. I have this heavy sense of LOSS.

Had to walk past the house twice, not much damage outside, no marks of fire. But all the windows are broken and there’s water going down my street. Now they’re cutting off the electricity and gas.

I feel so sad for the people who lived there. Easter morning and your house is on fire. Next thing you know,  you’re walking out of your door with your belongings in a bag.

There were children in that house. No one was hurt, but now Red Cross is there for them. That eases some of my feelings, but my thoughts have been morbid since the fire. Which was just a few hours ago.

I realized that I messed up my meds. Which explains why I feel this so deeply and am slowly slipping into a depression. I was messed up before my morning meds and then after I took them, I was ok. I’m dipping down again, but writing this out helps.

I’m confused and scared and just not really here. If you can understand that feeling. Saw the neighbors kid this morning and the look on his face was exactly how I feel now, dazed. He’s BiPolar too.

I don’t know if I could have handled this illness as well if it began when I was a child.

So much to think about. So much I don’t want to think about, but I know I can’t stuff.

I realized that the month I was molested as a child, is the same month my brother died. Which is April, this month and my emotions and thoughts are a whirl. I processed the molestation years ago. I had originally blocked it from my memory and through hypnosis, I remembered when I was twenty-five; something that happened when I was five years old. I don’t think you ever really get over something like that, no matter what age you were or are when it happened. I am proof of that.

I can’t wait for this month to end. In the past, I was always in some type of mental turmoil during April. I would end up with a deep depression from nowhere and go inpatient and have to adjust my meds. This pattern went on for a long time and I didn’t have an idea why. I would be fine and then, BAM.

I can’t remember when it stopped, but things got better and the meds got better and the pattern stopped. I was doing pretty bad in the beginning of the month, just processing the first anniversary of my brothers’ death. But I was making it with help from therapy.

I was standing in the kitchen when it hit me that these two events took place in the same month. I knew it happened, but all I never knew exactly when. I just knew it was sunny.

This is my April. I have to be careful and mindful of my meds and therapy from now on, or I’ll be back in the bed crying all day or at least most of it.

 

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