Chemotherapy working; lots of progress

I am feeling better than I have in years--emotionally, MUCH better because I have been treated for Bipolar 2 and feel much more happy, stable, and creative than I have in years.  Prozac made me basically depressed, gave me memory loss, and increased many problems.  It takes time to diagnose bipolar disorder, but with a combination of ongoing therapy, meds compliance, and taking time to find activities that nourish heart and soul, I have become much better and am emerging, like a butterfly, from years in a dark chrysalis.  Bipolar really is a matter of the brain becoming ill; it is sad that people will judge those whose brain has become ill when they would never judge someone with heart disease, or anything like that.  Still, aside from all that, I am writing, hiking, dancing, singing, and working on quilts and other fiber arts again.  The clouds have very much lifted from my life.  Someone told me, after not seeing me for some time, "There's my Joanie again.  It's good to see her!" and they praised me for my hard work in getting well.

I also had my second round of tests on my kidneys (I was diagnosed conclusively with lupus nephritis in November 2013).  My kidneys were showing signs of failure in November and I was very ill, and was put on chemotherapy, which I had resisted for months because my sister was put on chemotherapy and died a horrible, sudden death within a few years.  I was terrified I might die, not just because of the chemo, and the closest people to me offered neither support nor belief in the fact that I could get better--they just ran like scared chickens, leaving me with CG to come take care of me, at great expense to his work and his personal life.  One of my friends at the time said that he wishes the worst of karma on the ones that ran, that they get to experience the worst and cruelest abandonment in their darkest hour.  I can understand his frustration and disgust, but I do not wish that on anyone.  Life metes its justice eventually, if necessary, and we all make grave errors in courage, every one of us.  My own error was being so afraid of chemotherapy that I did not accept the need for it months before, when I had the choice and was not so gravely ill.  I expect that if I had mustered my courage, much more than just my health could have been saved.

I got my latest tests back today (I am monitored for kidney function every couple of months) and my kidneys, though still releasing trace amounts of blood, have returned to a much more healthy functioning, with near-normal results except for the traces of blood.

I am beginning to believe that a remission is possible and within my grasp.

This is a very good feeling. :)