I am Courtney, but you can call me Court, or Coconut, or one of my other various nicknames for now. Courtney is temporarily on hold until I find out why its old connotations have disappeared. You know, things like "happy," "spunky," and "sure of herself." Yeah, those words are gone, and in it's place are words like "Bipolar 2 Disorder" and "100 mg of Lamictal at bedtime."
Wow, that got real real fast.
But really, I have no time to dillydally. This question has been burning in my head for some time now: what happens when suddenly you realize that everything that made you who you are doesn't exist anymore?
Well, after some thought, I have determined that first you cry a little. And then focus on what you know, and then you search for what you don't. Already got the first part down SOLID, so onto part two: what I do know.
I know that I am no longer a competitive gymnast training to be an international champion or be the star of a Division 1 school. I know that became true almost 5 years ago, but that I still speak of it as if the head coach from UW told me "no" an hour ago. I know that I am still in mourning for the yes I never got.
I know that I am in my senior year of college, studying community health and nutrition. I also know the irony of secretly using that knowledge against myself in a silent battle against an eating disorder.
Finally, I know that my diagnosis - Bipolar 2 Disorder - is not a characteristic of who I am or an adjective to describe me, but merely a word to put on paper so that I can get the right medication to stabilize my brain while it's desperately grasping for anything that resembles an identity.
So, on to part 3: what I don't know. Hm, that's easy: who the heck I am.
Hence the blog.
So here's me, a 21 year old girl on the verge of entering the "real world" with not a clue of what to do with herself, while half-assedly searching for a new therapist because I fired my old one for not agreeing with me, and occasionally lifting really heavy things and then putting them down again so that I can say I'm good at something. Essentially, I'm a blank white page with a dark past, waiting to be colored in with yellow and mint and sparkles and chevrons. Hashtag, classicwhitegirl. Sure, I plan on applying to nursing school in a few months and hope to one day make the world a healthy place free of all that is evil, but honestly? Even a few months from now looks like a great big land of I Don't Know and I Literally Cannot.
There's only one way to work this conundrum out: write about what I do know so that I can figure out the whole "what I don't know" part. One, it just sounds wise. But two, it's a better use of my time to share this with the entire world than than to agonize over it alone.
I hope you will follow me on my journey to discovering what a Courtney is again. It'll look a little like ranting, but also like random epiphanies and throwbacks to the events that led up to this sudden loss of identity.
Here goes nothin'.
