Remember the funhouse mirror?

I remember standing in front of those mirrors at carnivals and fairs and being fascinated by them.  As a kid, I was easily tricked...."Am I really this tall?" "Am I really this short and wavy?"  I liked the tall mirror and hoped I could stay that way...

I'm being tricked again by bipolar.   I am still experiencing much of the rapid cycling or mixed episodes where I go up and down almost constantly within hours or even minutes or have both at the same time.  But sometimes there is a clearer distinction between feeling manic and/or anxious and feeling depressed and hopeless.  I get a lot of racing thoughts and some of them "pop" pretty positively during the manic/anxious times.  I'll start to think "Maybe I am getting better.  Maybe this newest medication is the one.  Maybe I'm really not even bipolar."  And then, the depression and hopelessness drops in again within a few minutes, the cycle starts all over again and I realize "I'm still stuck in this thing."

Part of what I believe is driving these "tricks" is the fact that I'm very anxious about beginning a new partial hospitalization program in August when my insurance approves it.  I have been in a holding pattern for a while now waiting for this and it seems to be finally getting closer and I'm scared.  I have been holding onto strong beliefs and faith that this program will help me, and as it gets closer, I think "What if it doesn't?"  I also am heartbroken about being apart from my kids the last month of summer.  Even though I am struggling right now, I still find pleasure in taking them to the pool and being outside and taking advantage of the warm weather with them.  I worry about the stress and exhaustion it will cause my parents as they take care of the kids all day every day while I'm at the hospital.  I worry about my husband and how my new schedule will impact him.  All of these worries make me question if I should go.  When I experience one of those "up" moments, I'm ready to cancel the whole thing.  Call the hospital and tell 'em I'm not coming.  But then my world or brain crashes and I see how much I need to go.  I can't continue this way.  I owe it to my kids, my husband, my family and me to do everything I can do to manage this disease better.

So, until August, I am going to try to think of those "trick" thoughts like those funhouse mirrors.  They seem real for a moment, but just as the mirrors don't make you stay "tall," the thoughts don't make me stay well.