After a two-day extension to by trip due to the snowstorms in the the Northeast (yeah, feel bad for me, right?), I am finally on my way home. I’m actually sitting at the Orlando airport with families toting Disney stuffed animals and sporting Mickey ears, awaiting boarding.
And man, am I ready.
I miss my kids. I miss my husband. I miss my dogs and cats and even the two bunnies. And, oh, how I miss my BED.
But, I am afraid to go home.
I’m afraid of what my family will think of me.
Before I left, everyone was walking on eggshells and hoping this getaway would “fix” me. I’d come home and everything would be OK and back to “normal.”
But if there is one thing I’ve learned while here, is that I did not need to be fixed.
Maybe my medicine needed a little tweaking, and I needed to go someplace to deal with all the stress and anxiety and tears I had been keeping locked up in a little corner of myself trapped somewhere for a number of years (nearly five years of un-purged emotions and tears can take a while to weed through).
But I did not and d not need to be fixed.
I may need to learn how to communicate better with my husband. Being 1100+ miles away, can’t fix that.
I need to learn how to take care of myself, make sure my feelings are heard, and when my emotional needs are not being met, I need to find a way to to meet them myself and ask my family for help when I can’t do that.
I need to explain to my kids and husband that bipolar is just a diagnosis that can be managed with medication, but it won’t stop be from getting angry or sad or frustrated or laughing so hard I pee my pants (God what I wouldn’t give to laugh so hard again that I pee my pants).
I will still cry a lot when I’m happy, or frustrated or sometimes, for no reason at all. I can’t help it, I come from a family of criers.
I will still have my same compulsions to keep things neat and picked up, but that’s how I function and if you’re going to live with me, that comes with the package.
I may get anxious, too. I don’t know. This whole anxiety is relatively knew to me.
So all of this makes me a little nervous to head home.
I can only take that first, and get myself on the plane. Only then, can I move forward.
Only then will I become stronger and wiser.
Only then will I truly be me … warts and all again, with a family I love dearly.
And who I know loves me, too.