Right. I’ve begun to recreate my blogroll once more. If you’re not there and you think you should be, by all means, let me know.
And if you haven’t been there in the past but would like to be, you can let me know that, too.
What else has been going on? Well, let’s see.
In addition to being a bit manic for a couple of months, I’ve been suffering from anxiety as well. Yesterday I slipped from manic to depressed, and am still anxious. I was weepy all day. Not fun. It didn’t help that I thought I had misplaced something very valuable that doesn’t belong to me. In the end I discovered that I had actually done the sensible thing for the first time in my life: I had put it in our safe. But it didn’t occur to me to look there until evening. Yes, I’m that disorganized. Then I had to wait for Randy to get home because I couldn’t remember the code and he had forgotten to take his cell with him.
What a pair, eh?
I’m all over the place right now; I thought I was losing my mind. And I resented it.
Most of the time I don’t dwell on the fact that I live with bipolar disorder. It is what it is. But yesterday was one of those (thankfully rare) days when I truly hate it. Why can’t I be like everyone else? Why is everything so overwhelming to me? I keep shutting down. I can function and even smile sometimes, but when I come home I bury myself in escapist activities like reading (inappropriately; i.e. ignoring my husband and everyone else around me) or mindlessly watching television. During work yesterday I wanted to blast my music so loud that it would feel like my eardrums would blow, but though I turned the volume on my iPod all the way up, it still wasn’t loud enough. It’s not easy to drown out thoughts determined to be heard. Thoughts like:
“I’m a mess. Who do I think I am, going for a Ph.D.? I should switch to a BA program in something easier because that’s all I can handle. Nothing I say or do is right. I’m a horrible friend- too selfish and self-absorbed. I’m a fraud. I’m a burden.”
As the Linkin Park lyric goes “… I’m strong on the surface, not all the way through…”
The refrain in my brain.
I’m not wallowing. Though I wrote a lot of it out here just now, I’m working through to the other side. Not stuffing, but looking at each one of these things and refuting them. For the most part, however, I have to ride out the depression, let it run its course while I keep busy. It’s all I can do.
Yeah, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I just have to find it and follow where it leads.