Today was a pretty monumental day. It’s been filled with a tremendous amount of excitement and one monumental breakdown. I guess you take the good with the bad, right?

While playing around online this morning and looking for trips I could take I found a flight to Istanbul that was very reasonably priced. I hemmed and hawed for a little while knowing this was not a financially savvy decision on my part, but in the end decided I could make it work and I’d be an idiot not to take advantage of this situation. So I did. I’m flying to Istanbul tomorrow and will return on 2/21. I can’t wait! It’s going to be so much fun and such an amazing adventure. I don’t have my sketch writing class next Monday so I have the time to go. Plus, I found out I’m getting $1200 back for my tax returns. I’d much rather spend money on experiences than stuff. B is going to try to get a flight out in a few days, too, so hopefully we can spend some time exploring Istanbul together. I’d love nothing more than to share this experience with him.

The breakdown came later on in the day. I decided that as a courtesy to my parents I should really let them know I’m going. I’m 30 years old and don’t need to ask permission, but I figure they deserve a heads up if I’m going to be flying 5000 miles away. I called my mom and tried to pitch it as a fun adventure I’m lucky to have. She blew up. I lost my cool and ended the conversation. My father called. My parents have decided that I’m (literally) crazy (again). And that they’re going to need to pick up the pieces when it falls apart, like they’ve always had to do with me and both of my brothers.

I get it. I really do. I understand where they are coming from. My parents have had to endure more pain because of the actions my brothers and I have taken than any parent should ever have to endure. And I’m sorry for that. I truly am. It’s unfair to them. They are kind and loving parents. They deserve to have successful, well adjusted children. And someday they will. What I think they sometimes fail to realize is the pain we, as their children, have endured. Not because of them, but because of the circumstances this life has borne unto us. My brothers and I have not had it easy. And we deserve to grow, to flourish as independent adults and to live our lives the way we see fit. Without judgment. It’s time they allow us to grow out of these roles. It’s time we all move on. I hope the conversations I had today can be a catalyst for that change. An opportunity for my parents to change the lens through which they view my brothers and me, their children. It’s really not serving anyone well at this point.

I have worked my motherfucking ass off to get to where I am today. And by all accounts, I shouldn’t be here. The number of times I overdosed on pills and booze, drove drunk (or in a blackout), took a razor to my wrist, contemplated blowing my head off with a shotgun or tried to destroy myself from the inside out by not eating will remain a remarkable testament to the fact that I literally SHOULD NOT BE HERE TODAY. Yet, somehow, I am. By the grace of God I survived a self destructive phase that should have killed me. I’m convinced I have an angel watching over me and the only reason I’m here today is to make a positive difference in the world around me. To help people in some way. I’m also convinced it’s my life mission to realize this goal. I owe it to the world. To the people I did, or could, have hurt with my actions.

My parents mean the world to me. Given the opportunity, I’d never do anything to hurt them. Ever. Unfortunately, I can’t structure my life in a way that will avoid causing them any stress. It’s not fair to me.

2.15.13 will mark one year since I quit taking any psychotropic medication. Considering at the height of it I was taking 3 mood stabilizers, 1 antidepressant and 2 benzos to manage my “bipolar” disorder this is a major achievement. This last year has presented me with a tremendous number of challenges and new opportunities – major surgery on both of my knees, leaving a job I hated and moving out East, etc, but it’s also been the best year of my life. I no longer hate myself down to the very core of my being. Actually, I rather like myself and am happy to be the person I am today. I like what I’m doing today. I like where my life is headed and can’t wait to see where it takes me. I’m grateful for all that I have. I’m especially grateful that I don’t have to live in that self-imposed hell any longer.

One of the things I tried to impress on my father today, as he was explaining how much my brothers and I have put him and my mother through, was how much my brothers and I have been through. That yes, it was a horrible experience for them, but it was a much worse experience for us. At least for me it was. I guess I can’t talk to my brothers’ experiences, but I assume it was just as bad for them as it was for me. It has taken me a decade to trust my own thoughts and actions again. Not being able to trust whether your own mind is giving you accurate information – that your thoughts are consistent with reality, is one of the most devastating aspects of mental illness. I don’t want to live my life monitoring my mood and trying to decide in my head if how I’m feeling is how I’m supposed to be feeling. I can’t live my life like that. I need to be able to trust that my thoughts aren’t tricking me. And I do. Finally. I realize I just booked a last minute flight to Istanbul this morning – an impulsive move on my part, but it was borne of rational, well thought out ideas. There’s really no one more committed to making sure I don’t go through that again than me. I can’t go through that again. I don’t have another round in me. And I’ve done the work to ensure that I won’t. I have been sober from drugs and alcohol for 3.5 years. I’ve made the decision, once and for all, that I will not drink or use drugs. There’s no going back on it. I have quit drinking caffeine, I get adequate amounts of sleep on a daily basis, I meditate, and I eat well. I’ve made a tremendous number of changes – very positive changes, that have given me my life back. And I refuse to give that up. I refuse to be sick.

I am a miracle.

And with that, I should go pack. 8 days in Istanbul…. I must be the luckiest man alive!

Gratitude List:
Growing into the person I’m supposed to be.
Wonderful people I can reach out to in times of need. Aunt M, J, C, L, M
A fun adventure.