The Intriguing Life of Jennifer Lisette Thomas

I should probably make a note about medications first, since I had a brief moment where I was damn determined to quit all of them. Maybe a day or two after that post, I decided to remain on the lithium, but anything else was game for elimination. My pdoc agreed that I'd probably be best off of the other meds. Before we even got a chance to start tapering down, well..."shit happened," basically. I spent 17 days in a psychiatric hospital, where they decided that the other meds were probably causing my problems, so I got off of those.

It takes lot of energy to write some things about myself, but it's good therapy. I have spent years of my life coping with (fighting) bipolar disorder, even before I was formally diagnosed. Now, I find out that my oldest brother (no blood relation) has been diagnosed. Something that I wouldn't wish on anyone, and my own brother is diagnosed. Of course, I witnessed him deteriorating before my own eyes, but it's something different to know.

It all leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, like my uncle's words at a family gathering: "Bipolar basically means 'I'm crazy as fuck and can't function in society.'" He said plenty of other things, of course, but those particular words latched onto my fragile mind like a life-draining leech. It's hard to function when your own family might hate you if they only knew. Of course, I sent an email to my uncle, expressing my hurt, so he'll know as soon as he checks that.

I wonder how my brother feels. Does he feel the way I once did? Does he feel relief at finally having a name for this illness? Does he feel anger towards life, his genetics, his upbringing, God, the healthier world? I simply must wonder, and I feel for my brother in all of the confusion and rage that comes with a diagnosis. But perhaps he is feeling relief in knowing, and that would make me somewhat glad. I hope he's not overtaken by the hopelessness and suicidal depression that once defined my life. A life defined by death.

Would I choose not to be bipolar if I could. Yes, in a heartbeat. Knowing that my entire life, from childhood on, would be affected, I would. Good things have happened as a result of bipolar. I view things differently than the average person, and I count that as a positive. I've met dozens of lovely people through my support group. I view life through bipolar-tinted glasses because my brain is wired differently. I view that difference as a good thing because the current system is flawed.

But would I give it back? Yes. But I'd take it on for my brother, too.

I have safely returned to Savannah, and I brought some ghost shrimp with me from Columbus. So far, so good.

I'll definitely be writing- in both fiction and nonfiction capacities- about what it was like to see my oldest brother in his current state. I keep learning new things about life that I didn't pick up when I was out of mind. That's still how I feel sometimes, but I have moments of clarity and understanding that I'm so thankful to have.

So, it's back to the grind. More tests and assignments and lectures. I love it.

I want to become rich (and possibly famous) someday simply so that I can help my parents pay off any of their debts. My parents, especially my mother, have been immensely helpful when it comes to my life and financial situation. Trust me when I say it's a long road to digging my way out of mania-influenced debt, and I'm not even halfway there. However, my parents are helping me get there, and I want to make sure that they are completely "squared away" someday.

I don't really want to get rich for my own benefit. Fame would have its perks (and drawbacks), but I don't really live like a big spender (when my mood is stable). I really just want a nice farmhouse is the country or a tiny home near the ocean (but not oceanfront property). I do want a horse. But I don't need a mansion and ten cars to feel that I'm successful. I do want to author a few (successful) books someday, but I don't need a lot of material goods to show that I've made it. If I do get grossly rich someday, I'll help my parents pay off their debts, make sure mine are paid off as well, and start forming scholarships for needy and talented individuals.

Good luck reading the above. For the record, Capital One is awful.