It is funny. Not funny ha-ha, but funny the other way.
I find it humorous how I can be in a “mood”, just in general. It does not seem like it can get worse. The irritability is present and boiling inside of me. The irritability is something I am quite tired of. All of this is in play and then you go online in your portal and you see the diagnosis. Your diagnosis.
I am not mad; I am not sad. I am numb. The diagnosis sounds so harsh on paper. Like a little vicious monster reaching up grabbing ankles; vicious. Yet, the diagnosis’ are just words. Words that are for insurance purposes. Words that help to direct a doctor along the right path, prescribing the right medication, to help me.
I have said often, a diagnosis does not bother me, it’s just for insurance purposes. Today that is a lie. It is in this moment that I am hurting. The words together to form a string of diagnostic terms in a sentence, bringing pain and shame.
I know I am not a diagnosis; I am Michelle. I am not defined by a diagnosis either, I know this to be true. However, goodness bees knees it hurts today. Perhaps I am being sensitive. It very well could be contributed to my coming down from the manic high that I have been on for five weeks now. In addition there is the “bad data” that is in my head, beating the shit out of myself.
Some days are easier than others.
I woke up this morning and I felt off. I was in a fine mood, but just felt like I was wearing an itchy sweater. The sweater is adorable, but it is not mixing with my skin. I am excited to be adorable, but I am miserable at the same time.
The really wonderful thing is that this is all temporary. This too shall pass. I will get through this. I will get to a point where the diagnosis does not affect me like it is doing today. I am not the diagnosis I have been given, I know this to be true, although today I am struggling to believe it.
This is something that I will rise above, like the phoenix out of the fire.