Jan 27

Jan 27 Falling In Love With Bi-Polar II Disorder In a World With Kanye West

I honor the creative in Mr. West. I cringe when his mental state is attacked or when people say he has the money to get help, and that’s true. HOWEVER. Consider being faced with the harsh reality that your brain doesn’t produce all the things it needs to regulate your emotional state. Consider coming to grips with the treatment of medication that may increase suicidal thoughts. Consider what its like to choose between losing your mind or locking it up.

What would you do? How would you do it?

I had to fall in love with starting over.

I don’t exactly know if I fell in love with it because of childhood trauma, or if I genuinely don’t mind starting over.

I grew up with two Ashleys. One Ashley had the bravery of a God, and the audacity of a white man. I said whatever I felt with no regard of who may be affected, and I felt this way because I knew whatever I said, I was right. Whether I was questioning my Sunday school teacher or pointing out the obvious to a classmate, there wasn’t a fight I backed down from or a challenge I didn’t face. Ashley number two doubted every move she made, but still wanted to make them. She didn’t like attention, but Ashley number one made it difficult for her to disappear when she wanted.

I was curious about everything. I was interested in everything. Everything was important to me. My skates, my fishing pole, who I’d dress up as for Halloween, the presidential fitness award, everything. I didn’t have time to worry about who was watching me that day, I knew how to charm my way into being able to be set free. I was always pushing the limit. How far away I could explore from my apartment building. How many questions I could ask before my teacher would get worked up. How high I could climb in the tree out front. I knew the world was a more exciting place because I was in it.

My childhood circumstances changed a lot. I always had several family members watching me while my dad worked, and my mom tried to figure out how to be a 22 year old wife and mother, with no work experience, and a high school diploma.

When family and friends weren’t playing hot potato with who would watch me, I unknowingly learned to self soothe in my times of distress. I hadn’t developed a strong enough bond with anyone to share when I was not feeling the best. There would be times where I felt bad for weeks, and wouldn’t tell anyone.

I can remember as far back as 2nd grade not being able to sleep most nights. I would just lie awake. I would have periods of feeling invincible, then periods of questioning my existence. I was always either hot or cold. Talking to everyone, or wandering the playground by myself. Teachers never knew what to expect with me. I could have the entire class in stitches, laughing from my antics, or I’d be so quiet that they didn’t even realize I was in the room.

These traits would follow me through middle school, and high school. There would be moments in my adulthood where I would light up a room. And there would be moments where anxiety and sadness wouldn’t even allow me to attend a baby shower I was invited to. All I could do was sit in the car and wait for my breathing to slow and the tears to stop. Times where I’d be so excited to do a photoshoot, then filled with anxiety about picking up the printed copies.

I would come to find out well into my adult years, after four therapists and two clinical assessments, that I have Bipolar II Disorder.

Which explained a fucking lot.

I’ve chosen to work with finding the best treatments and practices for me. Things that help me navigate through uncertainty. I prayed for support and that’s just what I got. A wife and a family and friends that show me unconditional love. Support is what anyone needs who battles anything.

“Even in my ebs, I know things still have to flow.” - Ashley Mozingo

Adapting to new places, new schools, and new areas is something I had to do. So starting over has never been something that terrified me. After we moved from Jersey to North Carolina, we moved houses like musical chairs. My parents tried their best with three kids and two high school diplomas, but I knew what an eviction notice was. I loved them for trying their best to not let us see all the hardships.

That adaption would serve me well in my adult years, as I navigated through different careers, friendships, divorce and remarriage. I was, and still am, not afraid to start over. I wish I could bottle the bravery to start over up and share it with the world. Maybe I can. Maybe I already am.

I wish I could let the entire world know that starting over doesn't mean you’ve failed or that you aren’t good enough, or that you’ve missed a mark. It doesn’t mean you don’t have what it takes, or that you didn’t have a good plan. It just means that sometimes things change. You haven’t done anything wrong. Some things just change. The love you had for that hobby may change. The spark you had in that relationship may change. The plans you had to have a house by 30 may change. Things change. And it’s not because you’re a bad person.

“If you want it, you may have to start over to get it.” - Ashley Mozingo

I had to believe, and do believe, that things really do work out for my good. Things don’t always feel good, but I am good. I am well. And as I continue to learn myself and work to restore the gray matter in my brain, I suffer no loss.

Everything is a gain. Even the pain. Even in pain. I have gained so much.

Even if it is just the wisdom to do better, I gained.

I’m becoming more in tune with both Ashleys’. I may even be able to unite them one day.