Is this normal?

I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately.

Like right now, I have the urge to go the city and see my favorite DJ play this weekend. I don’t have tickets, people to go with or a place to stay. But I figured those things will just work themselves out. I mean, what else do I have going on this Saturday?

Am I being impulsive? Am I starting to become hypomanic? Or…am I just a gal excited about seeing her favorite artist play?

#bipolarproblems

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This is what depression looks like…

One of the best articles I’ve read in a long time [via Huffington Post ].

I want you to picture a person with depression. Are you seeing the dark bedroom, filthy sweatpants, empty eyes, poor health and general lack of prosperity?

You know what I see when I picture depression? A blonde, blue-eyed teenage girl. She gets awesome grades, loves to paint, go to football games, drink Starbucks, Instagram and giggle with her friends. She can quote Harry Potter, obsesses over makeup tutorials and cannot wait for college. She looks back at me every morning in the mirror.

The worst part of a depressive episode is when someone asks questions like “Why?” “What happened?” or “Was someone mean to you?” Sometimes, there is an antecedent, but more often than not, depression just hits you. It feels like riding a bike, and in the blink of an eye, you’re trying to pedal through quicksand with no tires. Moreover, it is almost impossible to explain, so trying to answer these questions makes you feel like even more of a failure. It can be frustrating as a friend or family member to read this — advice is much easier to give when there is a definitive issue at hand. The best thing you can do when you are trying to help someone with depression is to simply be there.

Read the rest of the article here.

On being selfish.

Having a mental illness and wanting to focus on recovery/ healing makes me feel so…selfish.

I feel bad canceling commitments, saying “no”, and staying away from people I used to be close to.

But what other choice do I have?

For the first time in my life, I need to focus on me. My healing. My future. I need to make choices that won’t lead to extra stressors..because for my bipolar brain, these extra stressors may lead to depression or hypomania.

I have to say no to helping others because I need to help myself first. I have to stay away from those that bring me down, regardless of how “close” we used to be. I simply cannot go out and drink all night anymore. I simply cannot go dancing till 4 a.m. I need to get good sleep, eat right and exercise.

I have to disappoint and possibly hurt people in order to get better. And that terrifies me.  But I’m also at a point where my mental health means more. I know I can never fully “recover”, but I can get pretty damn close.

I’m worth it.

Triggering co-worker.

My co-worker is a sweet, kind soul. She’s younger than me (~22 yrs) and suffers from depression and an eating disorder. We have great conversations, she’s fun to be around and I would consider her a friend. But my god… she is so triggering.

A part of me suspects she’s bipolar as well but she seems to be stable on anti-depressants, so who knows.  Lately, it seems as if everyday has been a gloom fest. She’s exhausted, falling asleep at work, can barely function. She’s super negative, mopey, and unmotivated.

I’m not trying to judge because I’ve been there. I truly know how it feels.

But it’s still really triggering. I feel like I easily absorb the emotions of others. When she’s depressed, I often find myself heading down that dark path. Sometimes I’m able to catch myself before the plunge. Other times, I fall pretty deep into that hole and it’s really hard to crawl out.

I’m not sure what to do. I can’t change seats, I can’t quit my job over this and I can’t control her moods, obviously.

I’m feeling stuck.

Lady in red: feeling seductive.

lady_in_red.

* * *

I wake up about 3 hours before my alarm, refreshed.  In the shower, I make sure to shave my legs…and my privates. Every part of me needs to be smooth to the touch.

I soothe my warm body with a lotion that claims to smell like rose and lavender. I do my hair, perfectly. My makeup is on point: not too much, just a little touch up of my best features. My outfit is well coordinated and hugs me in all the right places.  (And the color…well, it’s always red.)

…and then I realize I still have about 2 more hours until I have to get to work. 

But that doesn’t get me down. What is time, anyway? I make some coffee but forget to drink it. I don’t know what hungry feels like anymore.

I’m making plans. So many fucking plans! I know how to turn my career around, I know the people I need to get in touch with. Emails are sent. Facebook is reactivated…because well, I’m fucking social again! I want to connect with everyone and everything. Humanity isn’t doomed after all… I may have figured out a way to save it.

One more hour till work. 

I rip off my red dress and pull my hair back. I climb into bed and wake him up. First, just kissing. He tells me to go away. He’s sleeping. But of course, I don’t. I kiss his neck and he tries to resist. But I know he can’t. I work my way down from his chest, to his stomach, to his very happy dick. Good morning. 

I can feel my co-workers checking me out as I walk into work. I look pretty fucking amazing. That just fucked flush in my cheeks compliments my red dress quite well.

My boss tells me I’m on point today. That I’m doing a fantastic job. All I’m thinking is how much I want to fuck him in the bathroom. And then once again in his office. I smile and walk away. If only he knew. 

I tackle my work projects with efficiency and grace. My co-workers ask me what I’m on and start laughing. I laugh with them, maybe a little too much. I can’t sit still. How can I work in this shitty place when I have so many plans? I need to log all of my ideas into my phone before it’s too late.  I can’t forget. I have to follow through this time.

How the heck am I home already? Where did the day go? I miss him. I wish he wasn’t away on business. Why does he always enjoy leaving me? Maybe I should eat something. No, porn first. I wish I had the guts to go out to a bar and meet a stranger, but hey, this will do.

Somehow it’s midnight already and I’ve written four short stories, drafted a business plan and organized my closet. Need to sleep. But still not tired. This can’t go on tomorrow. God I hope I don’t crash. I can’t wait until my psychiatrist prescribes me something for sleep. Maybe if I just climb into bed…

Racing thoughts.

2 am. 3 am. 4 a.m.

Rise and shine. 

Making sense of feelings & accepting my diagnosis.

I think the biggest obstacle for me going forward is going to be figuring out what the fuck I’m feeling. I know I’m overanalyzing and perhaps others can chime in on their experiences with this. I literally don’t know what I’m feeling. Is what I’m feeling normal? Is it the start of something more sinister? Will I make it out of bed tomorrow or will tonight be one of those nights…and is that okay?

I would classify yesterday as a good day. I was calm, serene, level headed.

This morning, I could barely get out of bed.

Does that mean I’m falling back into the clutches of depression? Or does it mean that it’s simply Monday and I’m like everyone else struggling to get going?

Perhaps I’m trying hard to cling to the notion that I’m like everyone else. All I’ve ever wanted is to be accepted, but I’ve always been an outlier. And this diagnosis makes me even more so. (It’s the bipolar diagnosis I’m having trouble with, not borderline for whatever reason).

I’m not surprised by my diagnosis. I’ve known for a long time. I just didn’t want to get help. The hypomania is… seductive. I feel like I’m on top of the world. I’m charming, beautiful, creative. Why would I want that to end?

It’s the depression that sent me reeling into the doctors office. How I can be me one second and the next second I’m thinking about killing myself? Or the fact that as of late, I’ve been more and more depressed and I can barely function at work. I remember coming home early one day last month, around noon, and just going to bed until the next morning. I literally could not function.

Is this my reality from now on? Will I basically be shifting from high to low to normal and back again? Am I ready for it? Are the people in my life ready to accept me like this?

My fiancé knows but doesn’t get it, I guess. He’s seen me at my lowest and at my highest. He wants me to look at the diagnosis as a validation of my feelings instead of a life sentence. I know I’ll get there, especially as therapy progresses and the meds do their job. But I’m not there yet.

I’m not ready to accept it just yet.

For the meantime, my therapist gave me this great book. It’s hit a little close to home but I recommend it to anyone that’s been newly diagnosed.

facing biopolar

Here’s to hoping I get some restful sleep tonight.