Frog in Hot Water

I grew up hearing the frog in hot water illustration. You know, the one in which two frogs are put into pots of water. The first is put into hot water, and naturally leaps straight out. The second is put into cool water which is then heated slowly, and does not leap out at all (in the versions I've been told, said frog eventually boils to death, but in the interests of prevention of cruelty to animals my second frog merely leaves his hot water much later - and at a higher temperature - than my first frog). The story is told to illustrate how, when a negative situation develops slowly, we are likely to pay far less attention to it (and to tolerate far more of it) than we would if we were dumped directly into it.
It's been a bit like that for me. Certain patterns in my moods have been so slow to make themselves clear and have developed so insidiously that it has taken these 9 yeses (and a bad patch of exhaustion/depression) to alert me to patterns which (I have subsequently found out) many around me have been aware of for quite a while.
I'm used to being happy, it's my natural state. I'm also used to patches of depression. I've had five major depressive episodes of long duration - one soon after we were married, and then post-natal depression after each baby. Perhaps that's why these two to three-week lows every now and then haven't really registered. Especially since the main symptom is fatigue rather than sadness. Yes, I'm irritable and sometimes even a bit over-sensitive and tearful, but surely everyone feels that way from time to time. I have super-energetic periods when I feel invincible and on top of the world, but I've never been crazy or out of control.
The problem, though, is that I never know how I'm going to be. In the up periods I feel I can do anything (and I DO get an immense amount accomplished). The problem is that when I hit a down patch I am all but incapacitated. It's a struggle to just get through the basics - get the kids to where they need to go, do the shopping, maintain some sort of order in the house. Even packing the dishwasher can leave me wanting to lie down.
Up until now I've just rolled with the punches. My way of coping was to get as much rest as was possibly feasible during the flats and catch up, packing in as much as I could, during the highs. Because I'm a stay-at-home Mom that has been possible to a great extent, and so I suppose I'd never badly needed to take a proper look in the mirror, so to speak.
Until God asked me to say 9 yeses. I was in a good space when I said those yeses, and so to say them was easy. But then the next slump hit me and it dawned on me: I have debilitating moods swings. They are not merely a function of my personality type. They are severe enough that I actually could probably not hold down a regular 9 to 5 job any more. I realised that I needed help.Without it I was not going to be able to say yes with all the implications that those yeses carried.
And so Friday I went to see a psychiatrist, who confirmed the diagnosis my research had suggested: cyclothymia (a bipolar mood disorder). In talking to her it become evident that my mood swings are actually very strongly linked to natural rhythms - seasonal (I often joke that I "hibernate" in winter), monthly (my husband will have no hesitation confirming PMS) and daily - sleep deprivation is a strong trigger for depressive patches. And so I am now on a mood stabiliser called Lamitrogine, and will be getting some help with respect to setting up rhythms and routines to help avoid instability triggers.
I am feeling very hopeful that some of what is inside of me may now have a chance to come out, and be useful to the world.
All a rather unexpected fall-out of those yeses.