47

I've had a birthday this week. I cannot believe that I am 47- but not really in a bad way. Not until 50- then I will freak out. But this almost feels good, like an accomplishment. There were so many moments in my past when I didn't think I would make it this long, and nearly didn't a couple of times. So I guess it is an accomplishment.

My late 20's and early 30's were really awful and I was so awful. And I think half the time the meds I was getting was being given were only making it worse. I never knew I could get that bad. It still scares me when I think about how bad I was. Mania turned me into someone else, someone I didn't even know, and someone who was totally out of control.

Then came Zyprexa, and I have not been seriously manic since. Only seriously fat. You can't have it all I guess.

I have found, like most, that the mania's are easier to keep at bay than the depressions. That is where
I still struggle.

Still, I have much to be grateful for. I have a good job, a wonderful niece, a car that is paid off, parents who love me in whatever way they can, and relatively good health. I think that 47 is going to be a good year.