Nights like tonight stress me out terribly.
This rash along my jawline is not helping the matter.
I spent the entire day doing nothing. I shouldn't feel guilty about that, but I do. I probably needed the rest. However, I look around my house and see that so much needs to be done. Now, I am beating myself up over it. I am in my "lull", the space between where the depression ends and the hypomania starts. I knew it was coming when I was unable to fall asleep last night. Hell, I still haven't slept. My mind is racing. I can almost hear a faint hum if I listen for it. I have spent most of the day at my computer. I am reading, researching, reading, researching and I find that there is no one telling me anything new. This is what is so exhaustive about bipolar disorder. These bouts of compulsion. I have to know something more, need to find out something new. The information is out there, out there, out there, I am just not finding it. It's freezing cold here right now, but I am sitting in front of an open window with a t-shirt and shorts on, purposefully, in hopes of catching a nice bout of pneumonia that will render me useless. Then, I have an excuse to lay around and do nothing.
Isn't that sad? Who needs an excuse? Isn't it my perogative as a human being to take the day off?
I have read a few "bipolar themed blogs" today. I have to admit, some of them are real cheese. A lot of quotes off other medical sites. Nothing new to say. Same old shit spewed over and over again. More frustrating to me because I am a nurse.
I found one that I liked, because it was well-written and intelligent. I shall peruse it again tomorrow when the author returns from his self-imposed vacation.
Obviously, he is more forgiving of himself than I.
Tomorrow marks two full weeks of being on Lamictal, 25 mgs. By Tuesday, I will be taking 50 mgs a day. This makes me nervous because of the ever developing rash on my face. It's not a bad rash, just something someone with really good and clear skin would notice. My skin has always been a vision of perfection, complexion-wise, so this is very distressing for me. But, if I have to deal with a few pimples instead of living my life on the proverbial rollercoaster, so be it.
Besides, I am running out of options.
Just for shits and giggles, Google the words "bipolar disorder support" and watch what comes flying up on your screen. Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of websites offering support, wisdom, encouragment and for only three payments of $79.99, the cure for Bipolar Disorder. I think the more I see, the more discouraged I become. Seventeen million people walking around with bipolar disorder and none of them seem to have a thing in common with me. In a more rational frame of mind, I would believe that it is my depression that is locking me into this sense of false lonliness. There are plenty of people out there like me. My depression (read: narcissism) doesn't allow me to see them. It's a no win situation. Either I am too depressed to care, or too full of myself to care.
I keep swimming along, looking for this paradisical island called "Happy Medium".
It's no where to be found.
1 comment:
Don't you hate it when during hypomania you get so much done that your friends and family think that this is your "well time" -- but they don't notice you haven't slept for 2 days, you're working non-stop, your talking a mile a minute... and you know if you don't stop soon you will hit the wall. That's what I hate. It's almost like they enjoy that part of the illness because everything runs so much more smoothly for them when you are hypomanic. And you start to realize you've just taken on 5 different projects that would make a normal person crazy, but you figure you can handle it -- and when you start to go prodromal back towards depression, everybody gets mad, and resentful that you just can't function like a high-performance machine capable of doing it all without stopping to eat or sleep. Yah.. Support? Hell I'm so scared of the stigma associated with this condition I barely tell a soul I have it. I've read books and clicked on the support groups but you are right, none of them seem like me. I was a high-functioning highly succesful individual before I hit the wall, and before the diagnoses and before I had to start medicating. Sometimes I wish I had my old life back... but I know I never can. (from the "new bitch" who just emailed ya *smile*) -- Oh yeah.. isn't the impulsivity of hypomania grand?
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