And I’ve only just begun…
Even if my bipolar disorder progresses, even if I get dementia, I can still love and be loved.
Exhausting and stressful.
Why do so many of us feel compassion for those with dementia and fear those with mental illness?
Balance, blanace, balance, where is the balance?
After I had my breakdown at age thirty, I moved back in with my parents.
I cannot change the past. I can only move forward from here.
His passion for Jazz as a memorial.
Now’s the time to spend with family.
I think it is human nature to ascribe or find meaning to events in our lives. Sometimes platitudes makes us feel better.
Do not try to do it all alone.
Grief is not linear, nor is it universal.
I am not my diagnosis. I am able.
I end up juggling multiple projects, with my mind racing and jumping all over the place.
Now that my parents are both in memory care and not able to join us, I miss them. Sounds odd, but even alcoholic families can be loving.
When I focused on my thoughts, I could not hear the noise.