I’ve been in a bit of a funk, which is why the radio has been silent.
I guess if I had to pinpoint it, it would be the news from my therapist that the nobody un-bipolar-ers. I did have hopes that it would go away. That I would be the version of myself that I know best. The one I am most comfortable with. The gravity of being mentally ill has also hit me. It’s a big responsibility. For me. And to my fellow human beings.
I can’t afford to be carefree. I have to be vigilant to my disposition at all times.
And, I have to be a hostage to medication.
With little support system. Sure, I have my doctor and professional team but they are not with me on a daily basis. My search for other bipolars has been fruitless. My therapist says not to take it to heart. Bipolars are not social. They are difficult. And, much of the time, they are in denial about their condition. Not everybody has the insight and ability to communicate like I do. I can understand that. Sometimes, I am the same introvert. But, I am just fascinated with the prospect of findings others. I will take any guidance I can get.
I am at a loss. I want a roadmap.
I want it so bad because I want to be able to follow something that will ensure all ends well for me. Doesn’t everybody, right? But, since there is no handbook on life, there is certainly no handbook on life with mental illness.
Today was a “could hardly drag myself out of bed” day and I have been dragging cement shoes everywhere. My limps are so heavy. My mind is numb. I do not even care enough to despise myself or circumstance.
This is one of the unpleasant sides of bipolar. I hope to wake up tomorrow in better spirits.