Manic Sunday Funday

I have several rules when I feel manic. No online shopping, no signing up for things, no making of such decisions that are possibly life altering unless consulted with a family member. Writing a blog post is not barred by any of these above rules, so while my unreliable sense of excitement about writing something lasts, I’ll be writing this post.

It feels like this: it feels like a prophet has come to you from the heavens and has given you your life mission, in this instance, it is writing this post. It could be anything really, like draw a lot of heads, or read until your eyes hurt, or look at job postings hour after hour without needing to rest. None of which, in hindsight, are not really things that should be “goals,” but rather everyday tasks. It feels so exciting to be doing such said task, you forget about everything else. Sometimes this is good if you want to forget all your life’s troubles for a while, but if it does persist, too much excitement for too long, can really do harm.

What are your rules you have for yourself when you are manic (if you have them)?


Support group review

I went to a bipolar support group today and it was the most helpful thing that I’ve done for myself in a while. I thought I would be better off by staying busy and distracting myself from my condition and my situation, but that was not the right thing to do in hindsight. After having gone to this support group in the city that was solely for people with the experience of having bipolar, I realize now that instead of distracting myself, I really had to lean in further to my situation, not distract myself away.

Every time I’ve convinced myself that I’ve accepted my life situation, that I’m finally okay with having bipolar, there is always more that I have to accept about living with this illness. It may be a new situation that arises, or it could it could be something that I was ignoring. This time I was ignoring the fact that I was isolated. That I had no one to talk to, face to face, about what I was going through. That I had no friends in the city. I had my online connections which I am so grateful for, but I really suck at reaching out online when I need the help the most. Plus, I was lacking in real human interaction, and real talks. I didn’t think I needed it as much as I did. It was so nice to have bounced ideas off of people about some of the decisions I’ve been struggling with, and to hear from their experiences.

So all of this made me realize how normal it is to be where I am right now, for someone with bipolar, having had gotten my diagnosis only a little over a year ago. Struggling. Trying to find my way. Find myself. Embrace my situation. While being confused by all the choices, and not knowing what might be the best thing for me.

Support groups are so awesome, and I am so lucky to have found one. If you are ever debating whether or not to try one out, you totally should.


This is… Anxiety

I’m shaking. I’m a mess. Freaked out and paranoid. I feel untethered and insecure. I feel like there is no one for me out there to be a friend. Hell, I don’t have any close friends left. I feel like I did something wrong, but can’t remember it, or that I’m not aware of my mistakes. Something feels so so wrong, I’m slightly dissociating.

I know all these feelings are just feelings and not real (or at least not 100 percent), but it’s uncomfortable to be sitting on it right now.

The days I don’t have class or something obligatory, I feel absolutely useless. I’ve been truly working on my workaholism by not overscheduling. But when I don’t have things to do, I’m in a panic (or I’m drawing, that’s the only thing that calms me down), frantically looking for things to do.

I feel like I’m not enough. People are telling me that I am, in fact, enough. They also tell me if that isn’t going to happen, at least make myself believe I’m enough- but that’s just not possible right now.

Everyone is telling me to get back on my workout regime. I really would have if I could, and if I had the energy. I have trouble staying awake, so I should probably work on that first.

I’ve been looking for a new psych because of my insurance, and I’ve been rejected by three so far. Some of that mentioned that my case was too serious, and they could not take the responsibility. Well, that’s awesome.

What is missing? What am I doing wrong? Why am I still sick? Am I just being impatient? Do I just suck at being an adult? Do I suck at everything I do? I am getting depressed again? Why is life so difficult?

I can’t wait to go to sleep

I wish today was over already. Weekends make me depressed because my life has basically been a weekend away from most of my adult responsibilities in the last year or so, so when you give someone a weekend away from the weekend, then that’s when things get a little stressful. How would you react if someone told you to relax when you are already bloody relaxing? Maybe it’s time to get a job/go back to school you ask? (Not you, reader, but I’m addressing my negative self-talk) Well, I wish I could, but seeing as I’m still struggling physically to get out of bed and do things sometimes, I desperately want to get back to having a life, I cannot. I am still not able to hold down a job, go to school, or be in a relationship of any kind. I’m just not there yet, as they all say. I tried, you know, I tried to go to full time classes and freelance just last month- the result was a horrendous downward spiral into a really dark time.

I draw to keep myself sane these days. I draw every single day. Sometimes, that’s all I can manage. Otherwise, I have no desire to do anything today. I feel pretty much nothing, and things (regardless of how things are realistically) seem futile and pointless. Life seems pointless (no matter what the truth is). I can’t shake these feelings that pull me further and further into another depression, it’s like watching myself fall- in slow motion.

It’s almost 7pm right now, and there are only two more hours until I can go to bed without feeling like I’m wasting my life sleeping. I cannot wait to not be in reality.

Career path: too many thoughts

In retrospect, I don’t know if the things I accomplished thus far were “a step forward.” Malcolm Gladwell asserts that you need to have 10,000 hours behind you to call yourself a master,  or get more than just “good” at doing something. But the caveat is, you have to do it right. If you practice wrong, you’re practicing to be bad at something, theoretically. I look at 10,000 hours of waking life that is behind me and ask myself, did I do my life right?

If one is asking that question, the answer must surely be no. You don’t really question things you did right; most of the time, they are taken for granted. Was it since college? Before college? Was it my major? Or that one internship? That relationship? That friend? I could ponder this question to get to the bottom of where “things went wrong” but I know it’s stupid to expect a cut and dry version of the unfortunate origin for it all.

While it was all happening, though, it felt right. It was difficult, but what isn’t difficult that is worth achieving? I managed to get through it all. It was the wrong kind of difficult, sure, the depression inducing, bipolar eliciting kind, but I didn’t know this at the time.I was, in a sense, practicing life wrong, if you will.

So from where I stand now, effort seems futile if it’s misdirected. And if I overwork. If I trust my decision making skills. Right now is when I need to trust myself the most, I feel as if I have the least amount of confidence for it, after all that has happened. Right now is when I need to take a leap of faith, but I am the weakest I have ever been.

I’m scared that this artist thing isn’t going to pan out. I already started looking at becoming a graphic or UX designer instead. The job where you do everything on the computer. Jobs that are digital are more viable, it’s a no brainer. But I look at both and try to imagine 5 to 10 years from now on, how I would feel about my choices then, and I just can’t- things are too hazy, there are too many moving pieces for me to be able to predict what might happen, and what might be a better choice. Again, the leap of faith awaits.

I know that it’s a luxury to be able to sustain indecision. I’m not that young anymore (neither too old), but not young enough to be trying every single thing that’s out there to see which career fits like a glove. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this at this hour.


Going bonkers

Therapy (emotionally) hurt today. It was like putting salt in the wound, or breaking a piece of bone that was healing the wrong way. I’m not mad about it, but I acknowledge that it hurt really badly.

It was about my workaholism and how I bend backwards to please people who are paying for me to do any job. I noticed that whatever I do, whether I love the thing that I’m doing or not, I get obsessive about it. I compulsively checking for errors, or redoing things that don’t really need redoing just because I see flaws. And I see flaws everywhere in my work- I cannot unsee it. That usually ends up costing me my health and my sanity, and sometimes, as a result, my job.

It’s a sensitive topic for me because I am more self conscious about my work product than myself as a person. I can laugh off jokes about how I look and how I talk, but I have a hard time laughing off jokes about my abilities or intellectual capacity. I take other people’s opinions about them more seriously than I should, and it’s a weakness that I’m aware of.

I hate that I had to go back and access the memories right before I got hospitalized etc. to talk about these issues I had with C, but there was no other way to process. I got really upset talking about it and had to miss my class afterwards because I felt like I was retraumatized. I think it was a useful discussion to have, but with my confidence so low and my depression not yet gone, it was extremely difficult for me to talk through reasons why I could not stay at my old job like most normal people.

Speaking of normality, I feel isolated and sad because I remembered that I lost all my friends before my diagnosis. I made some new ones, but it’s hard to have the same kind of conversations with someone new. I worry that once I get older and when my parents are no longer there, I will literally have no one, and that I’m going to die alone in my apartment and not be found while my cat eats my face to survive.

I just read everything again, and clearly I’m spiraling tonight.

Two steps back one foot forward

Thank you for being there for me, everyone. Your comments, likes and reads have helped me to hold on to dear life this past week. I truly think your thoughts and prayers got heard, and the mental health gods decided to spare me this time, again.

Motivation is coming back to me, slowly. I’m not as triggered by things and the dissociation went away. I’m so thankful that this depressive episode was just a short one.

Here is where I went wrong. I thought I was safe, and that my rapid cycling bipolar had stabilized because I had been more than OK for more than two months. But it humbled me again with another episode. I’m never safe. I’m never cured, even with the help of anything. It has to be managed. I think I put too much stress on myself by taking up full time classes and freelance jobs. They were great experiences, but I feel like I put those job related things before my mental health- and if I don’t want another episode in the future, that really needs to change. So, this month has been two steps back. We live and learn.