I told my fiance I would write out what this feels like.
Earlier today, I woke up and started cleaning house. Justin came home from work, I kept cleaning until we left. I was in a good mood. A bit stressed and with a long to do list, but in good spirits. We went to get Justin fitted for his suit. We had middle eastern food afterward. Went to TJMaxx. Somewhere throughout the day, something triggered me. I feel like I'm in a haze as I'm writing this. Even the light seems different while I'm siting here in the living room. We had a blocked drain, so we got some of that heavy duty stuff from ACE. Now the house smells like sulfur and the incense we've burned to try and mask it. It's doing wonders for my mood and my head.
I have been on edge for this entire week, and maybe longer than that..I'd have to ask. I haven't been easy to be around. I've been really tired and very run down for weeks, as well. No amount of sleep is enough sleep. By the time two o clock rolls around at work I am down for the count.
I feel like I am barely scraping by and today is just another symptom.
It took me months and months to order our wedding invitations. They're sitting on the desk in the spare room, waiting to be addressed. Today, I am too tired to even fathom addressing them. I'm too tired to lift the remote to turn on the TV. I barely have the energy to type this out. I'm sitting here in my favorite sweatpants and one of Justin's t shirts, trying to be comfortable, and hoping beyond all hope that these small acts of self care will make me feel just a little better.
Oh, good. I just started crying.
Today was the showcase for Chattanooga Girl's Rock. I knew I had to miss it, so that Justin and I could get some wedding stuff done. I still feel guilty. My friend from the camp is going to be playing a show at The Palace tonight, and it is such a good opportunity for her. She has such a gift. I wanted desperately to see her play. I had planned on going. It starts in 30 minutes. I'm on the couch, basking in the smell of incense and sulfur, and my own feelings of inadequacy.
How do you explain to someone that you're physically okay, but mentally unable to leave your house?
I honestly don't know that I could get up right now, walk to the door, get in my car, turn the ignition, and drive ten minutes down the street. Let alone dry my hair from the exhausting shower I just took, put on makeup, or clothes that aren't loose fitting. As I wrote that sentence, I paused, so I could swing my legs up onto the couch and lie down. Even sitting up on the couch is too much work for me right now. But hours ago, I was fine.
But I'm never really "fine". The edginess that has been filtering into every moment for the last few weeks just culminated in what's happening now, sitting here on the couch. There is no such thing as an innocuous interaction. Everything means something when viewed through the eyes of a bipolar patient. Everything is a sign. And with these episodes, it's just a matter of time until the next one.
I'm exhausted. I'm not just tired now, I'm tired when I think about the future. When I think about how many more days of my life will be like this. Medication does not eradicate episodes. Medication makes them further apart and less severe. Maybe I need my medication reassessed, because this seems pretty bad. But I don't really remember what these felt like before Lamictal.
This is the second time in two weeks I've ended up in the gutter after waking up in a great mood.
The dogs can tell there's something wrong, and keep walking up to check on me. It's sweet.
I don't know what to do. I don't know how people live like this forever. I know that when I wake up tomorrow, it won't seem as dark or as bad. Even if I Don't believe that when I'm in it, I have gotten very good at convincing myself to just make it through the night. I am so good at the "just a few more hours" of bipolar disorder. The "just a few more days". It's the "Rest of your life" that is giving me fits at the moment.
I'm getting married. I am happy. I have an amazing partner. I have beautiful dogs. This week, two young women told me that I inspire them to make music. I haven't been able to make my own music in years. But I could be an example for others. I have a good job. I have health insurance. I have a support system. I have wonderful bridesmaids. Amazing family helping me make this wedding work.
And yet, I'm sitting here on this couch. Crying again.
I don't know how anyone can see the good in me, or see me as an inspiration, when the smallest thing can reduce me to a puddle of tears. I don't know how I can see the good in myself, or be inspired, when I am the Goliath, and life with bipolar is David.
This disease makes it so hard to trust myself. To see my value.
In the past two weeks, I have told Justin to be with someone who deserves him, because I don't. I'm terrified that someday, he will take me up on that.
Living with this makes me feel like I am in the Upside Down just a fraction of the time, but I never know when it will happen. I feel utterly powerless.
I'm writing it down so that later I can read it and remember, and maybe it will help me get through the next time I'm like this. Because there is always a next time. Maybe it will help someone else. Maybe publishing it is cathartic. Maybe it's all in my head.
It's definitely in my head. That's the trouble with it.
