I have lived through so many hard things. So many difficult transitions. I have made difficult decisions, and have been diagnosed time and time again with this or that. Although I have taken difficult and made it my middle name, one of the hardest things I have to bare is my bipolar disorder. Many people have no idea what it is like to have a disability. Most people will either stare at you, gauck, whisper quietly to their companion; or, they are silent and try to hide or slip away in the distance. Of course, these are for obvious disabilities. But what about invisible disabilities? What about the thing that will determine if you are sane, needing therapy or if it is "something medication can solve." I bring this up because my bipolar disorder has carved a line into my being so deep that it is engrained in my way of thinking and feeling. For what it is worth, this kind of thinking has helped me pave the way through many trials and difficult lessons. However, as Trista has said, 'we experience things until we have learned that lesson, and then we can let it go.' I have oddly enough, seen value in my bipolar disorder. I have created this narrative in my own mind that I have this disease because I am meant to help educate people about not only bipolar, but also any other disabilities. In the usual 'Danielle way,' I have turned my back on my initial feelings of the disease(s) and created a distraction- to help others. This is a ploy to create a sense of worth for myself. To tell myself that I am more worthy if others can find strength from my suffering. If others can find hope or a sense of peace, then I have done my job and I am worthy. No! I have come to the realization that bipolar sucks. It really sucks. I had a great weekend connecting with family, in a sauna of an environment, mosquito infested, and conversationally exhausting. My husband and I left a day early because one of my chronic illnusses was acting up. We drove through a massive storm. Hail. Rain falling in buckets. Tornado warnings. And yet, I slept. In fact, I slept from 6pm to 3pm the next day and then had a full night sleep the next night.

After class tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about the difference between my value and worth. I’m guilty of associating my worth based on how I’m valued in certain contexts. Knowing that difference is one of the keys. I took that key and opened up a worthiness door.