This writing thing is hard. I don’t think I realized how hard it was coming up with something new every day until I started trying it. I’m glad I’ve got my schemas going on and can discuss those, but it’s hard to keep writing when I really don’t want to. Just a quick note here, I thought I could write about my 5th schema tonight, but it’s just not happening. When I started I was in a great mood, and was motivated, and had energy, and life was amazing. And then I cycled.
I feel like crap, and I just want to curl up into a ball and not deal with anything. I’ve fallen into this deep pit of despair and see no way out, so I’m just struggling to stay afloat. This is the hell people with bipolar live with. I go to bed and have no clue what emotion I’ll be dealing with when I wake up the next morning. I’ve been crushingly depressed the last 2 days, and for absolutely no good reason. I was happy as a clam for a good few weeks, there was no reason for things to change, but they did. All I can do is wait as patiently as possible for this dark cloud to lift and the sun to come out again. I get so sick of waiting patiently though. I get so sick of the sun going down so often and for no reason. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I don’t see me living a long and fruitful life going up and down like this. I can’t hack it. The people around me can’t hack it. I mean, don’t freak out, I’m not suicidal now, but that option sure looks more and more appealing the deeper I fall into this black hole. And its not even because I see no way out. I know this too shall pass, and I’ll feel on top of the world again, but I don’t know when. And even though I’ll cycle back, I know I’ll then start playing the waiting game again for the next time I crash. And I don’t want to live like that. It’s a bullshit way to live your life. It’s a horrible life to let others into because it becomes their hell too.
I mean, in fact, life is going rather well. My husband got offered his new job, and he starts in 2 weeks, we bought a new car yesterday that is ten times nicer than any one we’ve ever owned before. We’re paying an arm and a leg for it, but with Josh’s new job, we can afford it. I want to refinance ASAP though, just so we’re not continuing to pay an arm and a leg. I try to live as non-extravagantly as possible for some reason. We’ve been through two unemployment eras since this depression hit, and I like to keep our debt to income ratio as low as possible. You know, just in case. I think this preparing for the ‘just in cases’ in the worlds are wearing me out. It is physically and mentally exhausting trying to worry about every scenario that could go wrong, and yet I keep doing it. Josh is sitting over here happy as a lark about his new job, and our car, and the change that is happening all around us, and I’m lying in bed crying about nothing.
I think what is really eating at me is the change that’s happening all around me. Even though it’s good change, beepers don’t do so well with change. I mean, our insurance is changing at the end of the month and we’ll have copays again, and our prescription costs will be higher, and yeah. We met our out of pocket back in March, so we’ve been enjoying free healthcare since then. Starting in August we’ll be paying for services again. I’m trying to think of what all I need to have done in the next 2 weeks before we roll over into a new insurance plan, lol.
And then there’s the housing issue. I found a house. A glorious house. A gloriously perfect house. And it made me realize that we’re not going to live here forever, and that’s another change I’m not prepared to deal with. We didn’t get the gloriously perfect house, someone else jumped on that offer before we could, but that’s okay. God works on his own time, and when it’s time for our gloriously perfect house to appear, it will. But I’m already overwhelmed and depressed about the thought of packing everything up, and going through the work of moving into a new place, even though it’s at least a year away before it happens. I am not being very mindful right now. Right now, mindfulness sucks, and is hard, and I don’t even want to deal with trying to do it.
So that’s been life the last few days. My mum is super worried about me, and Josh is super worried about me, and I just don’t care. Right now I’m teetering on the edge of destruction, so it’s a good thing I see my psych doctor tomorrow so I can talk to him and see what he recommends. We’ll see if he thinks I’m dangerous enough to be admitted. I mean, idt I am, just because I’m not actively suicidal, but he’s a new doctor, so I don’t trust him too much just quite yet. And besides, I made a goal of 31 blogs in 31 days, and well, they don’t allow electronics on the psych ward, I wouldn’t be able to keep up if I missed a week of blogging. I’m giggling at the thought of trying to get my inpatient therapist to approve letting me have an hour a day to blog for ‘therapeutic’ reasons. I make myself laugh. I love it. Josh thinks it’s cute how much I manage to amuse myself. I’m like a puppy chasing it’s tail and being perfectly happy.
Speaking of puppies, I have to share with you the cutest story. My son is 3, and one of his favorite things to do when he’s not being Batman is to be our puppy. He’ll crawl around and bark, and come over and nuzzle our knee to get petted. If only he’d show some interest in potty training, he’d be the perfect pet. Well, our 18 month old has a speech delay due to mild hearing loss, so she doesn’t talk or anything yet. She makes a lot of sounds, which is good, it means her hearing is probably either improving, or just staying mildly impaired. So, I guess needless to say, when she does something with sound or anything interacting with us, we get wildly excited. I tell you about my son’s game of playing puppy so you’ll understand this story with my daughter. She’s been walking since the end of March, and doesn’t generally crawl anywhere anymore. But for some reason the other day she started crawling around on the floor going ‘ruff, ruff, ruff’! Believe me, it doesn’t sound like that, but whenever we say it, she gets down and starts making the same sound. It is so freaking adorable. If I had it captured on video, I’d be linking it for your viewing pleasure.
I’m glad I made the decision to write tonight. I’m actually feeling a whole lot better now than I was when I first started. There’s still so much more I could write about, like my disgusting house and how depressed I am about it, and how hard I am on myself for not being able to keep it clean, but that’s related to my unrelenting standards schema, so I’ll save it for when I finally write about that. I keep making the goal to get one room a day clean, and my poor mum, she was worried enough about me today, she came over and helped me achieve my goal of getting the kitchen done. Me, my oldest, and my mum all worked on it, and it’s nice and sparkly now. With any luck, I’ll have the urge to finish up my living room tomorrow, and then I’ll have two nice and sparkly clean rooms. That will thrill me to no end.
What brings you up when you’re down? How do you respond to change? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!