Dear Readers,
On this — the fourth anniversary of my sobriety — I’m proud to say that my bipolar family has grown in ways I couldn’t possibly imagine. Your support for me — on my blog, on Facebook, and elsewhere — has been the motivation I’ve needed to keep going. I want to thank each and every one of you for helping me make it to this milestone.
The last time I drank was Super Bowl Sunday 2012. I still can’t believe it’s been four years. That’s as long as college!
My readers, not only do you keep me sober, you keep me stable. You keep me in check. You give me a purpose every day. I write every day for you and I love every minute of it. You inspire me.
“Thank you for your blog and your FB posts,” wrote Christine a while back. She had overdosed on Trazadone in a failed suicide attempt the night before. “I read them and they always help me in my recovery process.”
I am breathless that someone like Christine or anyone for that matter would find solace in my writing. It means so much to me that she opened up, confiding such intimate details about her suicide attempt and how she had a plan moving forward to deal head-on with suicidal ideations and her bipolar disorder.
Our message of hope is growing.
When I was on Maui over the holidays, Mindy — a mother of two bipolar sons aged 10 and 12 — noticed I was on the island and messaged me on Facebook. She told me her story and asked if I would be willing to meet her sons. The four of us met at Starbucks and had a meaningful conversation. I talked video games with the kids — they got a Nintendo 3DS for Christmas.
Then we moved on to more serious topics like the importance of taking your meds and how bipolar can actually prove to be a help, not a hindrance. How bipolar individuals have a stronger capacity to feel and a greater degree of empathy than the average bear. How — echoing what I have said here on this blog — once we reach the right medication regimen, we can move on to live healthy, near-normal lives. Mindy’s husband is an artist who showcases at Village Galleries in Lahaina, Hawaii. She gave me one of his beautiful oceanscape paintings as a thank you. I was flattered.
Brick-by-brick, you and I have built a community, one that is burgeoning with every day. We are a fellowship of people hidden in society. But I hope I’ve made this blog and Facebook page havens for camaraderie and places where we can share how we really feel about our illnesses. We can help each other overcome obstacles. Our community flourishes with compassion and harmony. It is precious and it is altruistic.
I want to thank all of my friends and family for supporting me, in particular my sister, Foley, for kicking me in the ass and basically forcing me into rehab. And of course I couldn’t have done it without my parents, who are more understanding, loving, and generous than a son could ever hope for.
Meanwhile, please continue to enjoy the posts and keeping the dialogue going among us all. If you find the time to drop me a comment, all the better. It gives me that little kick in the pants when I sit down to write my next blog post.
If we can stay sober together, we can survive together. If we can pat each other on the back for our milestones, if we can take our meds as prescribed, if we can avoid triggers, if we can notice the beauty in the world, if we can laugh together, cry together, thrive together, then we can come alive together.
With Love, Luck, and Lollipops…
Your blogger,
Conor
