This past week has been a series of ups and downs. On the bright side I started volunteering, and have been working in secretarial and receptionist areas that, so far, I have been enjoying. On the other hand I’ve had 3-4 existential crises/emotional breakdowns this week, which is odd because the Latuda seemed to be helping. My mom is under the impression that the Latuda has made it so that I’m now just not depressed enough to care about how my life is going, which is not exactly going how I planned.
I’ve been praying a lot lately, I know it’s not everyones thing, but it helps. It makes me feel a little less alone, and when something happens that’s good it’s not just up to happenstance. I recognize that in my life, no matter the struggles I face, or I think I face, that I am truly blessed, and not in the #blessed sense. I have a roof over my head, food and drink, a family that loves and supports me, access to some of the best medical care in the world, and a boyfriend who also functions as my best friend and cares for me even when I’m likely a pain in the butt (for example, having a massive panic attack/emotional breakdown in his room for two hours). When I’m really down and out about how my life isn’t this, or that, or the other, it makes it just a little less cruddy to recognize how much I’ve been given that I take for granted. Yes, I have Bipolar Disorder, POTS, and fibromyalgia. Yes, that makes my life incredibly more difficult than I’d like it to be. However, I also have running water.
So yeah, right now is tough. I’m between and betwixt. Nearly everyone I know from high school is at college, and I’m home writing a blog and volunteering at a non-profit. I’d like to be a few steps in the future. I’d love to be super stable, and have a tolerance for some light exercise, and have a job or a career path set in place. Heck, I’d love to be getting married, and have a place of my own, and looking at having kids. But right now I need to focus on me in the right now – and that is the hardest thing in the world for me. I suppose I’ve maneuvered some sort of coping strategy where I pretend that I’m living what I want to be living in the near future, kind of in my head. It’s hard to explain. Like, I’m not steady enough for a job right now, a 9-5 type thing, but I’ll think about which ones I ought to be doing, or I think about what kind of wedding dress I’d like to have, or where I’d like to live. It helps me get through the days, and weeks, and months, where I’m not doing any of those things. But it’s also toxic, because I get away from the fact that I’m not living that life right now, so I have a rough awakening when I come back to the real world, where I live in my parent’s house and don’t particularly want to go to college and can’t figure out what exactly to do.
I’d like to write. I really would. I would absolutely love to be able to blog for a living, or free lance write, or write a few semi autobiographical novels about living with illness, and finding amusement there anyway…I can dream…and write…that seems like the best avenue of getting there at the moment.
Anyway to kind of sum all of this jumbled nonsense together: Life is hard, pray (if you want or feel led to, I am not at all telling you you have to, just a suggestion), you’re better off than you think.
p.s. I promise he likes me…that’s just his go to face.