I had a pretty good day today. I drove Nana all over the place and we went to Downtown Melbourne and looked at the cute stores and ate lunch in a cafe. Then I got to hang with David for like four hours. But now I’m home, and it’s night, and I feel crappy. I feel antsy and depressed and anxious. I feel like all I want is to be held and hugged and cuddled until I fall asleep. I feel like there’s a big hole in my chest. I feel like I need to run marathons and sit still at the same time. I feel like I have no idea what’s coming and it’s so out of my control.
And my day was going great.
The hell bipolar?
I was having a perfectly fine day, thank you very much.
Sometimes I want so desperately just to be healed, to never experience all the pain and fatigue that goes into my day again. I hope and I pray and I’m usually really good at coming to terms with my fate in life – I’m just going to hurt and I need to learn better how to cope so I can get on with my life. But then some days I’m not as good. Some days I’m goofy and I think it’s just me being happy, but then I get home and feel awful and jittery and then I think: “what if that goofy was just hypomania?”. And it’s so disheartening because in that moment bipolar steals everything from me. It steals my good moods and my bad moods and makes all of my moods a terrible mess that I’m left to try and sort through. Sometimes it feels like there’s no room for me in all my disease. Where’s Susannah? She gets lost sometimes. She can most likely be found hanging with David, but then if she’s feeling silly is that her? Or is that bipolar?
Screw you, bipolar disorder.
(PC: Isaac Dean photography)