WELCOME TO THE DANCE

Hello, I’m Sunny Larue known as the professional martini drinking blogger storyteller. I was diagnosed with depression at sixteen. My depression became manic at the beginning of twenty nineteen my Aunt passed then six months later the most important person in my life unexpectedly passed. When my mother passed all of my neurotic depressive behavior intensely magnified. The pain of losing both my Aunt who also had a huge impact in life and my mother I created a dream world that I kept getting lost in. I functioned like a “normal” person but honestly I felt like my dreaming world was taking over and spilling into reality. Pretty scary.

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Defective Toy

It’s quite difficult to articulate what being a manic-depressive is. The best way of explain the mess in my head is think of a toy that has a defect. You keep sending it back to the manufacturer for repairs but no matter how many times you send it back, all the pieces used to put the toy together doesn’t work. That toy will never be the same. You are now stuck with this defective thing. You allow your child to play with it until it breaks. Once the toy breaks your child stop playing with it and now it’s just another broken thing in the bottom of this toy chest. I know my analogy is harsh but it’s the truth. You know something is wrong, you get diagnosed hoping that can lead to a cure, then you place all your hopes on the treatments. You’re trying to find a balance but during this process the up and down of depression is too much and not only effecting you but your loved ones. For those who don’t understand what life is like can’t hack it and end up leaving. It took a long time for me to come to terms with this disorder. It took a long time to weed out the all the negative chatter. I learned to accept myself including all my imperfections.

“my mind is like a busted Humpty Dumpty it doesn’t matter how the pieces fell apart it’s how the pieces are put back together. You realize nothing will ever be the same”

Welcome To The Dance

As a manic-depressive, constantly struggle with having unorganized thoughts, I spend much time trying to organize these thoughts. This is where the lists comes in but beside the constant list making my head feels like a barnyard dance. Like going to a shin-dig, the barn hasn’t been cleaned. The animals are out being wild pooping all over you. You’re trying to navigate through the hay trying to avoid the mess. Then you realize its people dancing, having fun. As for the poop, well that’s on you too. Coming to the realization the mess you’re trying to avoid is a creation of your imagination. This is just one evening in the life of a manic-depressive. Spending much time focused on one aspect of life while the other thirty things go unnoticed. Thus the dance begins trying to balance all of it. Actively and ineffectively managing a spiral wave that’s circling the drain. Round and round you go, fighting with everything you have. Trying stay afloat but slowly falling into the drain. Each episode grows bigger making it hard to recover.

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