Some of you have already heard, but high emotional winds have died down on Galena Falls Drive and I am happy to remain here indefinitely.
It is a surprise to me, but not to Chris McCurry, that I find myself loving and being loved again after getting so very upset about how he and I both fail to completely coexist with Bipolar I with Psychotic Features. Bipolar I is the mistress and the meaning and the madness that spins us both around so fast that we can barely hold on for dear life sometimes.
But not all of the time…I know I have big emotions, but I am making progress in recognizing the difference between “me” and “me with a side of crazy.” At least that’s what my support system keeps telling me, and I am beginning to think so, too.
When I love, I pull out all the stops. And if you wrong me (or I think you have), I am relentless and ruthless and raw. I am happier than the Cheshire Cat, and then again digging a tunnel to the center of the earth. It is a wild ride, to be sure, but one that is exhausting and not voluntary.
But, no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop being me. Committing suicide isn’t the solution. Trying to be someone else isn’t either. The answers aren’t in a bottle, at the bottom of a Cheetos bag, on the other side of the world or in the next Netflix episode. I can’t find peace anywhere but inside of myself, and my husband knows this, so he lets me:
Bash him on Facebook (but only for five live minutes before deleting),
Yell at him to go stay down the street with his mother,
Throw an overnight bag I packed for him on the driveway in the middle of the night,
Scream that I was put on earth to do more than serve him because he knows that I’m going to end up…
…sending the whole world a new poem that I wrote just for him to say that I love him above all others because he:
knows to stay every time I yell for him to leave,
tells Chloe she’s the smartest girl there is,
brings me my medicine because I’m too dizzy to drive,
buys me two different bags of bath fizzies since he’s not sure which one I’ll want,
he holds my head against his chest and rocks me with low quiet humming when I cry in the middle of my doctor’s waiting room because we’ve been sitting there for two hours and I just want to go home.
He is the only one who really knows me, and the amazing thing is: he still loves me!
I guess it turns out that I am a lucky woman, after all. And, I’m again dreaming about our tenth wedding anniversary, the one coming up on October 24, 2019, when we will say new vows to each other while being witnessed by our daughter, Chloe Marie, in our living room, in our house, right here where I am now on Galena Falls Drive, here in this home we have made together, eating cake just like it was ten years ago all over again but this time it will be even better…
❤️❤️❤️, Mrs. McCurry