Some Clarification

Purple Passion Plant

In my previous post, I conveyed that I recovered alone. While I had to sit with my reality and seriously deal with my demons, I have had a lot of support.

I am blessed with a very supportive family, including my husband, my parents and brothers, in laws, and friends. I am luckier than a lot of people dealing with this same condition. I have had emotional and financial help from both sets of parents and considering what a lot of individuals who suffer with mental illness have, I am luckier than most. If I didn’t have Calico Jack and him providing top notch health insurance and care from my psychiatrist and therapist, I wouldn’t be where I am at.

In saying all of this, I have had to sit with my mind. I think about my mania leading up to my psychotic break and I am embarrassed. My behavior hurt my husband and family and friends.

Speaking of “friends” that I had at the time, they all abandoned me. They say that people have a way of showing their true colors when you go through a crisis.
Abandonment from people that you thought were good friends and would reciprocate the kindness that you showed them simply walked away.

The trash in your life gets taken out eventually.

I have since done some appalling things to friends that I currently have. I was manic during these periods and again, I am embarrassed and remorseful. The difference now is that most of my friends know of my condition and are ridiculously supportive. Even when I am not on my best behavior.

I am currently trying to figure out my meds once again. At this point it is fine tuning the dosage of a new medication I have started taking. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of this medication is suicidal idealization. One more adjustment. This situation is compounded by current personal situations. However, things are improving.

Bottom line: I wouldn’t be where I am with my disorder and with the help I have had. Truly, there are too many people to thank individually.

Ultimately, while I have had tons of support, I am the only one who is in my mind. Obsessive and invasive thoughts are still something I deal with quite often.
But, I am thankful for the love and support I have had and continue to have.

You all know who you are.
So, thank you for loving me.
I love you, too.



Kelly Williams c. 2021
Acrylic on Canvas

This year marks ten years.

Ten years of sorrow and heartache and stubbornness.

Stubbornness. It has kept me alive thus far. That and the Universe. Believe me, it’s been touch and go throughout the years. Why? Because I have been trying to die my whole life.

These are the cards that I have been dealt. It’s neither good or bad. It simply is.
I have lived in New Orleans for the past 13 years with my husband, Calico Jack. I am originally from Texas, yet NOLA has my heart and devotion. My relationship with New Orleans has been abusive at times. On both our respective sides, actually. But I am forever loyal, to a fault. This aspect of my character is both a blessing and a curse.

Wanna know the big secret?

On August 13, 2011, every detail of my life I thought I knew was dumped on the ground. And then my basket got tossed off the Crescent City Connection into the Mississippi River.

On August 13, 2011, I experienced a full-on psychotic break. Certifiable and locked up safe and scared in a mental health facility. I was diagnosed with Bipolar 1.

SCREECH! Stop the music. Turn on the lights.

I have been dipping my toe in speaking my truth ever since. I thought I was being SOOOOO elusive and mysterious, yet here I am, still fighting to come to terms with things.

So, here it is.

I am just one bit of stardust who suffers from mental illness. True, certifiable, lock her up and throw away the key certifiable. I’m finally okay enough with that existence to come out of my hidey hole and actually speak my truth. Hey, it’s been ten years. Time to pull up my boot straps and move on.

But wait!! What are you doing, Kel? To actually reveal it to the world? My extended family? Woah, that’s hard. (Please be kind.)

Perhaps you knew me when I had my wits about me. Or did I ever have my wits about me? Doesn’t matter now.

I’m tired of pretending and hiding away in my tree house. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let your hair down!” So. I have decided to attempt this whole blogging thing again. This is more for me than anyone else. I’m tired of silencing myself.

I will be speaking a lot about mental illness, with a bunch of cats thrown in for good measure. After all, “Don’t F#@% with Cats”.

It has been a year and some months since I was last in the mental hospital. Some have been better than others. Yes, I said others. I’m nutters, remember?

My husband didn’t sign up for this. He doesn’t deserve this. But I suppose when we said “In sickness and in health”, this was the Universe’s plan all along. I’m sorry, darling…

I now rattle when I walk with the medication I take. But this is a disorder. I have a medical diagnosis. Would you judge your friend for having diabetes? They take medicine for their health, as do I. Better living through chemistry, right?

What I do know is that my mind is flawed and beautiful. And that is okay.

So, I invite you on this new journey of speaking my truth, the whole truth, and nothing but. I’m glad you are here and I am glad I am here, too.