The phrase support network gets thrown around quite a lot in the mental health world, but there are varied definitions. According to the University of Washington, a support network is: "the people in your life that help you achieve your personal and professional goals" (
University of Washington Support Network). I really like this definition, as I think it's the clearest one I've come across. And yet, I think it neglects one fundamental aspect of a good support network--Love.
It's been about three months since my world started to spin out of control, and even at times when I was most attempting to isolate, my support network (my friends who have become family, and some of my actual family) never fully allowed me to do so. They were always there on the periphery or giving tough love, or a combination of many things so that I could remain alive. And that was extremely important.
However, I never really understood the importance of having a good support network until now--three months later, and pretty much mentally stable. Coming out of the hospital and being in an intensive DBT outpatient is not easy, especially since I've been really attempting to have a life outside of
therapy. I've been attempting to go out with friends, family, and attempting to put my life on track. And this is where my support network has really stepped up and helped me.
Going into social situations after a manic meltdown is always hard for me. I never really know what people are going to say. Are they going to ask me invasive questions? Are they going to act weird around me like I'm going to kill myself in front of them? Are they going to disappear from my life forever because of what has happened? I've had all of these experiences, and after the psychotic break I recently suffered, such fears were real. My friends B and AM reminded me that family sticks around, which means not giving up on each other easily. But, even with that assurance, it can be scary. Not everyone is as forgiving as they are.
But, in spite of my fears, I knew that I could not stop living. And that meant seeing people. My current family (friends and those family members who have stayed around) showed me, quite clearly, that B and AM were correct. No one asked invasive questions, or was weird. And everyone I left while in Carrier was still there when I got out. A huge shift in my life, and one that has really changed my world view, from rather cynical in terms of close friendships, to grateful for them.
Support network for me means real love, tough love, empathy and the desire to help me succeed, while getting the same in return from me. It means being there for me, and supporting me, but also calling me on my bullshit, and getting support from me. It means helping me work on skills, but still being willing to argue with me and treat me like every other person. It means helping me to meet my needs, but also getting needs met by me. To help me get out of my comfort zone, but being empathetic when things can get too much, and expecting the same in return. And all of these people I am privileged to call family are there, doing all of the above and more. They're all making me feel like a whole person, who is getting "better than before" (Next to Normal).
One such example was a friend's birthday party in the city last week. T, one of my best friends, double-checked that I wanted to go, and I said a resounding yes. But the night of the party, my anxiety started to kick in, and I had wanted to stay at home in sweats watching Jeremy Brett and writing. She wasn't
going to let me stay home, so the two of us reached an agreement. If I went with her, and agreed to stay until our friend got a birthday drink and a few songs were sung (it was a karaoke night), I could decide when we left, no arguments, and no questions asked. It was awesome, I had a great time, and I really appreciated my friend helping to empower me, while both of us were safe, comfortable, and got what we wanted. Support and love.
From past experience, staying in a psych ward means breaking trust with people. Many times people refused to give me back my responsibilities for the irrational fear of it "being too much" or I "can't handle the stress." That hasn't helped me, but has had the opposite reaction. It's made me feel like a shitty person who can never be trusted, and therefore cannot have a normal life.
This time, the reaction was not like that. My support network has really been helping me to get back into the swing of my life, and giving me back a lot of the responsibility I lost. My friend C still wants me to stage-manage the show she's directing next year. B, AM, KB1, and the whole church congregation still trust me to do stuff, with the same confidence in my abilities that they had before, my theatre crew still wants me to work, and my family doesn't treat me as though I'm a doll that can break any second. This is huge for me, and life-affirming. I'm me, no matter what I've been through,
and I finally have people who accept me, love me, and trust me.
The fact I have surrounded myself with amazing people who love me has really made all the difference in my "recovery." I feel like I have my life back, despite all of the road bumps I have hit along the way. I know for fact, that I would not feel this way, or feel as successful as I do, without my strong and incredible support network that is standing beside me. I finally understand why Bipolar groups and therapists talk about having such a network because the right people in your life can make such a difference. And it really has in mine. And so, to my amazing support network, in the words of the musical
Wicked, "Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
I'm also exhausted--my body is pretty much done. And I've been working my ass off at controlling my thoughts (I can't get in to see my doctor, so I'm not able to get the anti-anxiety meds that I need to knock the fuck out). When I don't sleep, I get all kinds of intrusive thoughts, and I'm opposite actioning the shit out of them (DBT skill for another entry). It's why this entry is being born, I'm trying to use a positive behavior to change the negative thought (I'm useless and can't really do things. Opposite thought: I'm useful and can get things done). I've been treating my thoughts like a highway with cars racing. Cops stop each car (thought) and if it's not something that I can use, he sends it back. I probably should use a calmer image, but I like this one.
I'm starting to feel like I'm that guy who walked on the tightrope between the Twin Towers. If the wind takes me and I go too far, it's death. Keeping my eyes and fighting for my balance is life. I'm right in the middle of the fucking wire, and it's getting harder and harder to combat the wind (mania). I'm supposed to see my doctor on Thursday, so I hope I'll get the meds I need, and a med adjustment, and I'll be fine. I want to make it to the other side.
