mental health, Uncategorized

A Decent Day With Bipolar ll


“Damn! I look skinny!” That was my first thought as I got ready yesterday morning. Every medication I take has a side affect of weight loss. Which, I mean, I ain’t complaining about but, one day it might get to a point where I’m too skinny. Considering I don’t hardly eat anymore. 

By this point, I had taken my fur baby for a walk and drank some coffee. I had a psychiatrist appointment at 11am I needed to be ready for, and I was feeling pretty decent despite being nervous about the appointment. 


On a decent day, I enjoy putting on my makeup. I even wore fake eyelashes and did my hair. Something that has recently become increasingly difficult for me to accomplish lately. I felt pride in looking decent, I felt good that I took the time to myself to do this. 


I poured myself my 3rd cup of half card coffee and went on my way. I’d say I even dressed pretty decently yesterday as well. With makeup and hair being so difficult, I’ve been at least trying to make an effort to put together nice outfits. 

These things may not be a struggle for everyone, but for me the way I look and present myself has always been a huge part of my life. For a while, I wouldn’t even go to the grocery store without makeup on. It’s one of the ways I express myself, it’s meaningful to me. So, when I don’t have the energy to put into my looks, it doesn’t make me feel so great. 


I’m thankful for the drive into town. And I’m thankful I get to say, “into town.” I by no means, live outside the city. I live in a suburban area. But, it’s just on the outskirts of the city, so it makes drives through the desert possible. I love not seeing a single building when I drive. I love feeling as though I’m in the country. Out here, it’s called the beeline highway. But to me, it’ll always be the 4lane. 

Once I got to my psychiatrist appointment, I was honest. I told her I can’t do this anymore, I feel numb and emotionless. I can’t even see the point in hurting myself to feel. Nothing has meaning. I need help. So, instead of taking me off of antipsychotics like I had hoped, she’s taking me off of one and putting me on another. God, I hope this new one works. I can’t handle anymore emotionless nights. 


I decided after my appointment, and not hearing what I wanted to, that I deserved some Starbucks coffee. Sometimes, you just have to do what you need to in order to feel a little better. No matter how small. Treating yourself is how you get through the battle. 


Speaking of treating yourself, I took a nice and warm bubble bath. (By the way, my tub isn’t really that dirty… it’s stained from black bath bombs. Never use black bath bombs. Ever.) I needed to melt my cares away and relax. My mind was starting to go too fast for me and I just needed to breathe. Sometimes, a little bath can do miracles. 


But then, my day went downhill after a phone call. I learned I have become a disappointment again. Someone I love is not proud of me. When you have anxiety and depression, having someone be disappointed in you is like them stabbing you in the heart. All you want to do is please people and make them proud of you, but sometimes you fail. I sat on the ground outside my bathtub and tried not to cry. I was so ashamed of myself, I still am. After that phone call, which was about my money habits, I went online and bought two new pairs of pants. That’s a mental illness for you. 


I began not to care, my day went downhill. The loneliness was setting in. I was all alone, and honestly, I was mad at God for letting me be all alone. Why do I have to struggle with this on my own? How is that fair? Why can’t someone just be with me? Why? 

I got to a point where nothing had meaning anymore. So, I laid on my sofa and cuddled up with my dog. And then, as if someone had told him I needed him, I got an offer to go get tacos. But even being invited to go out with the man I like didn’t make me feel happy. I smiled, because I knew somewhere in there I was happy, but I couldn’t feel it. I contemplated just going to bed at 5:30pm. 

Thankfully, I didn’t let myself wallow in self pity any longer. I gave myself 25 minutes of nothingness, then I got my ass up and fixed my makeup. I left the house hoping I had made the right choice. Still, feeling nothing. It wasn’t until I was the turn into his place that I felt something. Finally! I admit, I felt fucking butterflies pulling up to his place. Yes, I am a child. 

I finally enjoyed myself, and smiled so much my face hurt. You don’t need other people in order to feel. Your emotions don’t come from them. But, in times when you’re numb and emotionless, the best thing is to have someone show up and pull you out of it. It could save a life to just see that someone cares enough to want you to be happy. And that’s all I ask for, help when I can’t feel. Be there for me when I can’t be there for myself. 

Bipolar ll caused a lot of ups and downs. But, we can make it through. One day at a time. 

-Liz

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