this post might just hurt the most.
unraveling the truth from the perception
is causing me quite a bit of misconception
and even more fear of the repercussions.

i can no longer deny my dna,
it came up just the other day.
knowing the oddity,
when i recognized the new pattern,
my new habits of living;
things i felt were so positive,
with my new found fire and passion.

you see it started with my great-grandfather.
he was an animal healer out in the country.
known for “talking” with the animals and
knowing just what they needed for healing;
in the foothills of the Appalachians
when there was no regular veterinarian.

he was also known for being quite peculiar,
today prolly be labeled as bipolar.
the sheriff who shot him in the back
never got as much as an ounce of flack.
for my grandfather was the town crazy.
who took care of the animals then?

his daughter, my grandmother
carried on the dna of bipolar,
being institutionalized multiple
times in her life for not taking her medicine.
she eventually died as
a result of her own hand;
a gunshot wound to the belly.
her birthday i share,
how could i not be compared?

her daughter, my mother
has her same face, and one
day almost shared the same fate.
the fear that i felt that date
back in February nearly put me in shock.
to arrive at her house, being greeted by a cop.
she had pictures of my wedding
on her dining room table, next to “the note.”
can’t say if i read it or not,the events such a blur.

her plan thwarted by being discovered,
by my dad who called me,
after his business trip ended early,
wanting me to call 911,
because in the house they had guns.

in the ER I almost unraveled
standing at the foot of her gurney.
the charcoal stained dixie cup,
discarded, strewn on the floor.
she just didn’t want to live anymore.
i wept as she curled up in a ball
and slept. I almost lost my mother
that day in February.

i ran to the counselor, looking for
reassurance to be sure i also didn’t have
this thing called bipolar disorder.
dsm v was the latest catalog,
i was reassured, repeatedly,
over many visits
that this disorder had indeed
missed me.

many years spent in counseling,
through PT school,
through marriage,
and separation to divorce,
never did i hear that there
was a fear of such a disorder
for me…

now in 2016, with my new found
energy, that i thought was just
part of my healing it is quietly
whispered that perhaps i am,
indeed cycling.
my fiery passion,
decreased need for sleep,
desire to create, create, create!
“there’s a bipolar 2 now.”

for who can deny herself
such a strong dna,
whose face matches her mother’s
and her mother’s mother.
in sadness, i wonder,
could this also be in my daughter?
her face is mine,
as mine is my mother’s,
as my mother’s is her mother’s.

no one to blame,
yet it’s hard not to feel shame.

namaste.

7f8b69bb-4183-4cf8-aba4-ef289b8c996e


Tiffany is discovering the power of healing her past through blogging. By day she is a physical therapist and mom of two head-strong children. In the night and early pre-dawn hours she burns the “midnight oil” while she writes and blogs to her heart’s content. Sharing her story has helped her to heal as well as to helped others to know they are not alone. Here, you will find part of her story. If you would like to read more, then check out her work at tiffanybeingfree.com.

Thanks to Tiffany for submitting this amazing piece. Always remember you are not alone.

You are loved.

PF

Want to submit to this site and share your story, art, or article related to mental health or mental illness? Email wemustbebroken@gmail.com

 

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8 comments

  1. Tiffany…without a doubt, the most courageous thing I have ever read. In all honesty, talking helps and when there’s no more talking to be done, write. You are certainly never alone and I for one, will always be there at the end of the phone or on email. Much love. x

    Liked by 1 person

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