mental health

Oops?

I meant to post a weekly recap on Saturday but for whatever reason I never got around to it. Oh well. Nothing monumental happened last week, anyway.

I’ve had a lot of time to ponder the state of the union recently. I don’t mean the state of the country, although some days that seems to be in shambles. What I mean is that I’ve taken a fair bit of time to examine myself.

The problem with disorders such as bipolar, is that there’s really never any end. Sure, you might be asymptomatic, even for a long period, but the possibility exists that even if you’re on top of taking your meds, self-policing your moods, doing everything that you’re supposed to and doing it right, the possibility of another episode lurking right around the corner is always there. Always. No matter how vigilant you are, there is no true, actual recover. Just a constant management of symptoms.

Yeah, August was a rough month. Between not sleeping almost at all for over three weeks, my anxiety being a bitch on and off, and my emotions and thoughts generally in turmoil (even if I’m only now admitting most of this to myself), there was a lot going on.

I took a step back last week, really did a full self-surveillance and took stock of what was going on in my head. And I did some tough things that needed to be done. I either stepped back from, or outright ended a few friendships. They were, at their heart, toxic and not good for me. These were relationships that I really put myself into and got nothing back. It was take, take, take. And it was part of the reason that I was burned out. I feel like once I made the decision and accepted it, things started to settle down with me. I wasn’t living in a maelstrom anymore. Things weren’t perfect – part of me mourned the loss of people that I considered to be friends. The other part felt free, free of toxicity and negativity, free of weight I didn’t realize that I had been carrying.

But I digress.

I honestly think that if I hadn’t made the decisions that I did, when I did, that by now I would be in a full blown depression.

And that’s the thing – the next episode could always be just around the corner. Meds, therapy, diet, exercise, work, things that you enjoy…. if something gets even slightly off balance, that could be it in terms of stability. I hate that I have to live my life like this – from one episode into the other, even if there’s months or years between the episodes. I will always feel that way because I’ll always be waiting for the other shoe to drop, for things to go sideways.

While I don’t wish this on anyone, I do wish that people in my life could understand this. That it’s not that I’m not enjoying life, it’s just that the fear… it never goes away.

Never.

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