The Meaning of 2020 for Someone Who Suffered a Severe Mental Health Crisis 1/6/2020
There are a lot of memes, posts, hashtags etc. that espouse how bad 2020 has been.
I respect them.
I honor them.
I also relate to them in a way that goes beyond a Global Pandemic and Stay at Home Orders.
For context, New Years Day morning in 2020 began with a Tinder hook up gone wrong, a polar plunge, and an inpatient hospitalization 5 days later. Before the pandemic, this was already the worst year of my entire life. Fast forward two weeks, and I lost a beloved job and community. I was a woman on the edge. The edge of nothing.
As I sit here at my desk, in my office, of a new apartment for my son and I- I reflect.
I am not as beautiful, as skinny, as wonderfully ambitious as I was this time last year. What I am though, is honest. I know my limitations, I know my faults. I know that I have to do better for my son and the people around me and I am trying.
2020 was a year of trauma and change for everyone but it specifically was for me.
This blog, I hope will serve as hope. We, the Bipolar crew, we will rise.
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