Bipolar Disorder, Everyday Life, Uncategorized


It’s been a while since I have taken the time to sit down and write.  True.

I have not been feeling motivated to write. True.

I don’t feel like I have had much creativity over the last few weeks. True.

I have been struggling to make it through the workday.  True.

I have been sleeping more than normal. True.

I spent all weekend in bed last weekend. True.

I’ve been suffering from depression. I finally confess, that this is also, true.


It’s amazing home things sneak up on us.  How we are doing well and then as days turn into weeks, weeks into a month and before we know it, we are having trouble getting out of bed and we are dreading leaving the house.  We look at the shower and contemplate the necessity of this torture chamber, and debate whether our hair really needs to be washed.

I swear just a few days ago I was fine, but then when I really think about it, it wasn’t a few days ago, it was more than a month ago, and I have not been fine for a while.  I’ve been tired, exhausted, and agitated, fussy and not much fun to be around.  I look forward to sleeping at night, treasure the hours when I get to disappear from the world and live in my dream world, and spend all day waiting to go back.

I have been lying to myself.  Telling myself that it’s the heat, that’s it, the heat, it’s just wearing me down.  Or, that it’s just a dreadful day, that I am grouchy because I am constipated perhaps due to meat or gluten.  Or due to a restless night’s sleep disturbed by nightmares.  I’ve also blamed it on stress from work, stuff with the kids, or just blame it on life in general, yeah that’s a good one.  Plus my favorite is citing the medication change, which most times that IS the trigger to my ups and downs, but still, I have been in denial.

The bad data that has been filling my head with negative thoughts, the feelings of despair and the idea that I am not good enough have been torture.  The tears that have been running down my face, the amount of mascara that I have wasted, that time that has spent wiping snot off of my face, I have simply lost count.  Swollen, puffy, red eyes, looking back at myself in the mirror wondering where the sparkle has gone.  Wondering why I can’t help but to yell, why do I do this, what is happening?  Why do I feel this way?

Why does the good segway into the bad?  Why is this so cyclical? How long will I go before the sunshine comes back and when it returns, how long will it stay?

Tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun will come out tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there will be sun…

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