Off to see the Wizard

If this school thing works out, then I guess it's almost my time to face the wizard. I feel as if I already faced him once as I went through the mania and depression. He asked me to fetch the wicked witch's broom stick and with the help of my family, I have made the effort. Maybe I should look at it as if my work for becoming a medical assistant is the quest for the wicked witch's broom stick. Once I pass all of these classes and do my practice work in out in the medical field, I will defeat the witch and have the broom stick in hand. This is a long, hard road. I have those flying monkeys to look forward to and the guards-- who I thought were the most scary part of the movie. But even they were not loyal to the wicked witch. They wanted good to prevail.

I can't tell you how scared I am. There are tests every day in these classes and I'm terrified to fail. I feel like failing this would be failing life. I'm just at the point in my life where I've had my kids, raised them (and that was my focus), and now I'm out on the other end needing to reinvent myself.

The bipolar part of myself wants to run away and start fresh with no ties and nothing to hold me back. I want to stop my meds and get back to that woman who felt larger than life, who could do anything, who did so much and had so much energy. Who was 20 pounds lighter. Why did she have to go away...this disease is cruel. This disease is the wicked witch herself and I want to melt her down to the ground.


To a New Life,

Jen

Emerald City?

I chose door number 2... I have started classes at Seacoast career school and I'm studying to be a medical assistant. I have just finished my second week and I'm already feeling those qualms. Is this what I should be doing? Is it me? My background is in liberal arts. I have a Master's degree in Education. Now I'm going to a trade school. I'm not saying that it's not good enough for me, it's just really different. The classes are hard for me. Memorizing medical terms and learning how to take vital signs. This is all a foreign land.

Right now I'm learning about the nervous system and reading about generalized anxiety disorder and bipolar disorder has made me depressed all weekend.

I really thought that I'd start classes (which are every day except Friday) and my depression would go away. I think that's what my husband thought too because he was so behind the whole thing and now whenever I show the least bit of apprehension he gets all nervous and exasperated. God, if it was that easy to get rid of depression, everyone would be signing up at their local community college.

I have to admit, it's good when I'm there. I'm not alone anyway. It's these weekends when I have to do all the housework, the kids and the studying that things get a bit overwhelming.

It's at these times that I obsess about getting away. I start hating my house, my body, this town. I dream about those poppy fields and I want to be with my other self out there on the open road... she is searching for a better way. She wants to see if the desert has a healing effect like she hears it does. She wants to walk in that sand with bare feet in a sundress. She wants to see the west. What will happen to my Poppy? Will the wicked witch of the west catch up with her? I don't know. Poppy is trying to start her own website on the road-- posting in coffee shops and wherever she can pick up a signal. I wonder where she is now and I wish I was with her.

To Your Dreams,

Jen