I’m not sure if I’ve ever shared on this blog, but I am dealing with bipolar 1 disorder – among other things.
It seriously affects my life and I am currently unmedicated.
I do my best to manage it with a proper diet (though that tanks more often than I’d like), and vitamins and other supplements.
Often times it makes my life miserable – which is why I take breaks from blogging.
I recently went through a manic episode where I somehow thought that I could get my yoga teacher certification (which I did) and launch a fitness business within just a few months (which I did not).
I mentally and physically exhausted myself by designing logos, coming up with business plans, securing a place for classes, learning routines, advertising and so on, only to fail due to lack of proper planning and unrealistic expectations. – Manic episode.
I just came out on the other side of it, so of course I am going through the depression that comes after manic episodes and all the damage they cause – in this case, financial.
It’s an endless cycle – though I’m thankful it wasn’t something crazier than what it was.
I only wish my husband had the courage or whatever to stop me in my tracks and let me know that I’m in an episode before I get so deep into it. I feel as if I am dealing with this on my own and that he forgets I am mentally ill most times. I feel forgotten like he expects me to just ‘get it together’ and sometimes it’s just too much. I say this because he usually tells me he saw something wrong, he just tells me way after the fact – that frustrates me because I wish he’d speak up! It makes me hate my life.
I know I don’t really mean that, but at the moment it’s really difficult for me to express gratitude for all that I have right now. That’s depression.
Lately, I burst out crying at the drop of a dime and other times I am extremely irritable and angry and almost hate his guts because I feel like he expects too much from me when I’m like this.
Regular daily life gets SO HARD for me. Even doing my laundry and cleaning the kitchen are gigantic tasks because the motivation and caring just isn’t there for me. I can’t help it – I wish I could, but I can’t. I’m surprised I’m writing this post, because I usually don’t blog.
Maybe I’ll regret this entry later, maybe I won’t post it, maybe I will delete it eventually if I do post it. I don’t know. I think I just needed to get my frustrations out.
Sometimes this scares me because I have moments where I’m not sure how long I can take living life this way.
I’m sure you may be wondering why I don’t take meds.
Well, I went through that in my thirties and what didn’t make me fat as hell (some of the weight which I still have not lost) either made me feel numb and like a robot or gave me suicidal thoughts and tendencies. So I figured I can handle it on my own from here on out.
What frightens me at times is the high likelihood of my actually committing suicide one day – although at the moment that is the furthest thing from my mind – I know how low and hopeless I can get.
What’s annoying though is when people tell me I am demon possessed or something spiritual is happening to me – to them I say FUCK YOU because that is highly insensitive and people saying that dumb stuff have NO idea what living with bipolar 1 disorder [with psychotic features] (generalized anxiety, social anxiety, & PTSD) is really like.
Didn’t mean for this post to be such a downer, but I guess I just needed to write.
I pray that I will be okay.