{"id":1027,"date":"2015-04-12T22:38:23","date_gmt":"2015-04-13T06:38:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wou.edu\/westernjournal\/?p=1027"},"modified":"2015-04-12T22:48:37","modified_gmt":"2015-04-13T06:48:37","slug":"to-struggle-beautifully","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/to-struggle-beautifully\/","title":{"rendered":"To struggle beautifully"},"content":{"rendered":"
By JENNIFER HALLEY\r\n Copy Editor<\/pre>\n
Do you know what it feels like to have your mind spinning, somersaulting out of control with thoughts, at such a high intensity, it drives you nearly crazy? Do you know what it feels like to spend gross amounts of money without having any control in the decisions that prompted you to do so? And to feel that gut-wrenching guilt that comes with it? Or to sleep with a knife under your pillow because you\u2019re swallowed up in a thick, wet blanket of black that consumes you?<\/p>\n
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Yeah, I don\u2019t either.<\/p>\n
But my sister does. My beautiful, baby sister. She knows what it feels like to lay in a steep, heavy darkness, with its fingers at her throat, her own fingers clutching a knife buried under her pillows that, with one clean sweep, could end it all \u2013 silence everything. She knows how much it affects every aspect of her life to spend and spend and spend and then lay in a dried-out pool of funds and embarrassment. And every day still, she knows too well the screaming thoughts in her head that try to consume her every move and sometimes, do.<\/p>\n
Medication. Therapy. More medication. Diet. Exercise. Get enough sleep. Be healthy. <\/p>\n
Don\u2019t smoke weed. Don\u2019t drink. Don\u2019t. Do. Don\u2019t. Do. These things are pushed on her constantly, in an effort to manage her Bi-polar disorder. Every day is a struggle for my baby sister.<\/p>\n
But every day is also another day my sister gets up and faces this invisible illness \u2013 staring it valiantly in the face \u2013 which rears its ugly head every possible second it can. She\u2019s insightful, intelligent, hard-working and beautiful \u2013 a beauty that radiates from within. She\u2019s got deep dimples and big blue eyes. Who couldn\u2019t adore her?<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t, at one point. In fact, I was so angry with her I convinced myself I hated her. But it is impossible, as I\u2019ve come to realize, to hate someone that is such a part of you. That hatred you feel is just an aching love that clutches your insides.<\/p>\n
My sister and I were the best of friends growing up. We played with each other day in and day out; as punishment \u2013 instead of swallowing soap or weeding \u2013 mom would separate us, not allowing us to play with one another for the whole day, which made us incredibly distraught. Luckily, we were cute kids and mom would give in. But still! The thought of being apart for a whole day! We were inseparable.<\/p>\n
Fast forward a decade or so to my second year of college and her senior year in high school: the sweet, innocent, sensitive, gentle baby sister was replaced with an angry, careless, spiteful girl who treated her family with contempt and hate. She could not have cared less, in my eyes. She stayed out late, made risky decisions and slept very little. She was withdrawn and furious. As her senior year continued, she began cutting herself and sleeping with a knife under her pillow. You couldn\u2019t talk to her without the conversation turning sour; her mood swings were a light switch. We all had to walk on eggshells around her.<\/p>\n
I was so angry. With her. At her. Each decision she made was, in turn, hurting our parents, hurting me. My parents spent hours, days, weeks \u2013 that whole year \u2013 tirelessly trying to help her when she didn\u2019t want it. They were exhausted and it made me so mad. How could she do this to our parents, her family? Admittedly, I thought she was doing it for attention. Or to be rebellious. I thought she was being so selfish.<\/p>\n
Bipolar disorder never even crossed my mind, or my parents\u2019 mind.<\/p>\n
As her senior year drew to a close, and she went off to college, her life was a continual spiral. And I worried. I worried so much. She had free reign now: no parents to watch over her every move, no rules, no curfew, no sisters to meddle in her business. None of that. I was so afraid she was going to get addicted to drugs, raped at a party, or caught up with an abusive boyfriend. My baby sister was not a baby anymore and I couldn\u2019t protect her anymore.<\/p>\n
Now, at 22 years old, she is doing well. The sweet girl, who when she was younger and saw an ambulance whiz past us in the car, would say a quick prayer of protection, is back again. She has her moments and her days. I mean, we all do; we\u2019re human. We get tired, stressed and cranky. But for a person like me who is not dealing with an invisible illness, that\u2019s it. I get tired, stressed, irritable; sleepless nights can be remedied by a good night\u2019s sleep the next night; moodiness can often be attributed to hormones. Stress is a result of work and school.<\/p>\n
But to someone like my sister, a night of too-little sleep can result in a manic episode that sends her reeling back three steps. Missing a DAY\u2019S dose of her medication? Five steps back. Small, meaningless decisions for us can be huge for my sister and can result in periods of anxiety that stall her from moving. You ever feel like you just can\u2019t sometimes? Well, she feels that way far too often. Some days, She Just Can\u2019t. She\u2019s stuck in a whirlwind of anxiety and depression, thoughts crowding her brain and a fog which ways her down so hard.<\/p>\n
She\u2019s tried a variety of medications, seen an array of therapists and tries hard, every day, to manage her illness. And she is so incredibly strong for it. And so brave. So very, very brave.<\/p>\n
According to nimh. nih.gov, mental disorders are common, affecting tens of millions of people each year. But only half of those affected receive treatment.<\/p>\n
To my baby sister: I want to commend you for taking that HUGE step in trying, tirelessly, everyday, to figure out how to manage this illness that no one can see. I want to tell you I look up to you, so much, because you fight a battle I know nothing about and are still able to be funny, wonderful, kind and an amazing sister to me. You have bad days and good ones, both of which I think deserve acknowledgment. I will never know what it is like to walk a minute in your shoes, and I am sorry I could not protect you from this monster. But just know, that each and every day, through the thickest of thick and the thinnest of thin, I love you. I love YOU. Every part of you. You make me so proud, baby sister, and I hope you know that.<\/p>\n
Bipolar disorder is a HARD one to live with \u2013 hard for everyone involved. And those who choose to do so, man, how beautiful are they? As I watch my sister blossom into an adult, into her own person, I think I\u2019m beginning to understand what it means to struggle beautifully. She does it. Everyday she does it. And I\u2019m a better person because of her.<\/p>\n
So, I\u2019ll say it again: I love you, baby sister. Forever and always.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My baby sister\u2019s battle with bipolar disorder<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":367,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"","_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","_lmt_disableupdate":"","_lmt_disable":"","_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1027","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-opinion"],"modified_by":null,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1027","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/367"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1027"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1027\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1027"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1027"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wou.edu\/westernhowl\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1027"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}