Being speechless in therapy

You know when you don’t really have anything to say in therapy? Not that your life is perfect or that you don’t have problems, but all your problems are all chronic and ongoing and have no simple solutions that will end them once and for all and there are no major crises at least for once in your life? That’s where I am right now. I’ve been very stuck with therapy lately. I’m at a loss for words. Group or individual. I don’t really have anything to say other than, I’m managing and it’s fine. Not fine in the sense that I no longer have a chronic mental illness and all my hopes and aspirations are coming true, but in the sense that my bipolarness is not volatile. I’m not suicidal. My mood can still consume me and make be feel bad about myself. I’m chronically tired, but I’ve kind of accepted that. I’m still not stable enough to go out and look for a job, but I’m physically able to paint and draw. Socializing drains me, so that’s still difficult to do. I can’t even manage an online course at this state. Sleeping is still difficult. Eating is forced. Nothing is really “back to normal” and I’m not sure if it’ll ever be normal as before. I’m doing what I think is the best I can do.

I’m trying, I really am. But I’m also waiting. Waiting to not feel so tired all the time. Waiting for the moods changes to settle, waiting to feel like I’m not about to get attacked every second both verbally and physically, waiting to feel confident in my abilities to do things. Waiting to trust myself again in my judgment in small and big decisions. Waiting to become independent again. Waiting to regain my strength both physically and mentally. I’m trying but these things I used to take for granted are not back.

Every morning I hold my breath when I wake up because the mood when I wake up will determine how the day will go usually. So if it’s good, then it’s a relief. But for whatever reason, I’m feeling depressed, not much can help to lift that up. I become like a lifeless zombie- nothing is enjoyable. Vitality is no longer in my dictionary. On those days, I do things just for the sake of doing them. Showering, eating, going to group, interacting with others- I force myself. And it’s really so hard to move when there is this heaviness that won’t go away, like a demon is sitting on your shoulders.

I don’t know how long I will have to wait. But I’m pretty sure it will be a while. 

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