There are days when I feel some people do not get it. It being a variety of things. Mental illness, chronic pain, grieving?
There are days (like today) where I just need to or want to cry, because there are no other emotions that fit how I am feeling. I do not want nor need a cheerleading squad. There is no need to hear about how things could be worse. I just need or is it a want to cry (need to put this mascara to the test, again). To feel angry and upset about what happened, what is happening and what could be on the horizon. There does not need to be an explanation for the tears, nor shame, they are just tears, falling from my eyes, coming up from the depths of my slightly broken and in pieces heart, tears.
There is a time and a place to identify all one has accomplished (like making it through every hard time or bad day leading up to this point), but then there are times when I just want to sit here at my desk, and use up every tissue in my tissue box (got to have goals).
I want to let the hurt out because I have a mental illness that feels like it is destroying my life. I feel sadness and grief because this will be an ongoing process. Tweaking here and tweaking there, but at this time there is no solution or permanent fix to the problem called Rapid Cycling Bipolar Disorder.
It is the pain of not knowing what to expect each day. Will I be up or down or a mix of both upon waking and trudging though the day. How productive will I be? Will I be able to stop at the grocery store AND make dinner? What type of spouse and mother will rear her head upon her arrival home? It breaks my heart, over and over and over again. Is this the new normal? When will the old “normal” come back (I miss it)?
I feel like I need to add in something positive, like
- “I’ve got this, golly gee!”
- “You are typing without a bazillion of spelling errors!”
- “It’s been 7 weeks but out of 56 total of the year, it’s small in comparison.”
- “Pull myself up by my bootstraps and take on the world!”
However, what I want to do is curl up in bed and cry. Cry until my nose will not stop running and my eyes get all puffy and I look a wreck. I want to be in my softest pajamas and have the companionship of my cat. If the pain and hurt could stop that would be stellar.
Perhaps permanent answers, and an action plan that worked 100% of the time would be great.
However, it seems like I may have lofty goals for where I am and where I want to be and how I am going to get there. As much as I do not want to think about it, I do know that I have this. This IS a small chapter; it WILL get better because it has been better in the past. And you know, it is ok to cry. I am not weak, I am human.