Today I have gone to the laundromat, cleaned everything, packed, baked, eaten, purged, started a scarf, and yet I still feel like I haven’t done anything today. I feel unaccomplished. I feel like I have so much energy and so many ideas and I want to do all of them right now and that’s obviously not feasible and it’s frustrating because no matter how much I get done, I won’t even begin to chip away at the list flying around in my head so it feels negligible. My day is running out and I still have so much to check off that list that I feel frantic to get everything done.
Day #8: Share a scar.
First of all, I’m a day late, sorry about that. Yesterday was hectic. I went to the ENT and had to run errands and pick up prescriptions, and then I went up to the mountains again with my dad for several hours, so I didn’t get a chance to do this one, so you’ll get this one and today’s today. 😀
I don’t know if it means a scar literally or figuratively. I’m going to share an actual, physical scar that I have.
This scar is from the first time I cut deeper then superficially on my arm. It scared me. I should have gotten stitches, but I was afraid to go and tell someone what I’d done. I remember lying to my boss about it, when she saw it. I said I had caught it on a nail in my garage. I have no Idea whether she believed me. Probably not since I had a bunch of other self-harm scars on my arm.
For the longest time, I hated this scar. I thought it was huge and ugly. Well, it kind of still is, but I’ve come to accept it as part of my story. Part of my me, who I am, and where I’ve been. It’s a sign of strength. In that moment I could have given up. I was really struggling, but instead I found a way to cope. It may not have been a healthy way, but it kept me alive, and it kept me going, and it did its job until I could find better ways to cope. And I’m still here, still fighting, learning more and more how to thrive instead of just survive. I’m proud of that moment of strength when I chose not to give up.
So you may know by now that I have bipolar 2. You may also know that it’s not well controlled because I can’t get in to see a psychiatrist at the mental health clinic where I am seen for…mental health…and I need my meds adjusted.
Lately, I have been listless and apathetic. Completely devoid of any motivation and any desire to do anything. I lost all interest in everything. I couldn’t even knit anymore. I was sleeping 12 hours at night and taking naps during the day and was still tired all the time.
Then, yesterday, it happened. Like flipping a light switch. I had energy!! I had motivation! I was determined to get. shit. done. I cleaned the whole house yesterday. (Yes, before the planned binge and purge that I wrote about.) I felt so accomplished! I went to bed at my normal time last night, but didn’t sleep. NO! My mind raced around and round. My legs wouldn’t hold still. I was still a bundle of energy. After trying for 3 hours to sleep, I got up and filled out paperwork for the ENT I’m seeing today. Then I ate ice cream and purged that. Then I went back to bed. I didn’t try to sleep, though. I just lay there and used my phone and watched Netflix until sometime early in the morning.
I woke up at 6am ready to start the day! I want to do stuff! I want to pack. I want to clean. I want to bake! I want to knit 15 scarves! My body almost aches with energy!
Day #7: One thing that’s just for you.
This is my Jamberry collection (minus my lacquers, which I forgot to include in the photo). Doing my nails is something I do just for me. It’s something that helps me relax and feel calm. It’s the one and only thing that makes me feel pretty and feminine. It’s my favorite part of the week.
Day #3: A word that describes you.
[per-sis-tuh nt, –zis-]
persisting, especially in spite of opposition, obstacles, discouragement, etc.; persevering:
lasting or enduring tenaciously:
I feel the word that describes me is “persistent”. I’ve been through a lot in my life, and I continue to go through a lot, but I also persist. Sometimes despite myself, but I persist nonetheless. And I will continue to persist.
Pictured above is me simultaneously doing an angry dance and a facepalm of frustration. Why? Well, it starts a couple months ago.
The psychiatrist I was seeing at the mental health clinic where I go for treatment of my bipolar disorder, bulimia, self-harm, suicidal ideation, etc quit a couple months ago. I was informed via a letter in the mail and told I would now be seeing a new psychiatrist and that I needed to call and set up an appointment after a certain date. I waited until said date, called, and set up an appointment, a month out (her first available appointment, apparently). I waited anxiously for the date to arrive as I could tell my meds needed to be adjusted. The day before my appointment, I got a call saying my appointment had been canceled because my new psychiatrist had quit.
So, I called intake to get an appointment with another psychiatrist, only to be told I couldn’t be seen by another one at the moment because they were shorthanded. Not good enough. I got the number to the intake manager and left her a message letting her know the situation and that I really needed to be seen by a psychiatrist. She promised to “work on it”. Today, I went in to see my therapist and we went to speak with intake together. We found a psychiatrist with a last minute cancellation so I could get in to see someone this afternoon if I was willing to come back later. I was. They scheduled me and I left, finally feeling like I was making progress.
NOPE! I got a call just before noon saying they needed to cancel my appointment! No explanation could be given. I am so fucking frustrated! I just want to see a psychiatrist and get my meds adjusted. Is that really too much to ask??
I told the guy that I can’t be in a relationship with him. I told him I can’t be the girl he wants me to be. I can’t not be anxious and I can’t not be bipolar and I can’t believe that one day I’ll be instantly healed. I can’t do daily phone calls because phone calls make me anxious and I can’t be there for him the way he wants. I just can’t be what he wants. And being with him just makes me feel inadequate.
The last few days I’ve been pretty stable. My mood has been pretty alright, I haven’t been up or down, I haven’t been depressed or manic, I haven’t been suicidal or making impulsive (read stupid) decisions, I’ve been ok. And frankly, it’s freaking me out.
I just don’t know how to deal with being “normal” or steady or okay. I am so used to being sick and broken and in crisis that being stable feels so foreign it feels wrong. I feel like I need to do something. Like I need to be sick again so I need to do something drastic that will prove that no, really, I am still struggling. Steady scares me. Okay makes me anxious.
I don’t know how long this period of stability will last, but I’m trying to learn to handle it. To not let the uncomfortableness with the newness of it cause me to make any poor decisions. I’m trying to learn how to deal with just being ok without letting it push me back to the sickness I’m trying so hard to recovery from.
Sometimes, when I’m especially struggling, I miss being in the psychiatric unit of the hospital.
Right now is one of those times.
My anxiety has been really bad lately.
This evening, I was supposed to go to a barbecue with a friend. I didn’t really want to go in the first place, but she didn’t want to go alone.
Today, my anxiety was very high. I was freaking out about going. I canceled on her.
I feel terrible. I also feel relieved.
I hate that my anxiety makes me an awful, flaky friend. I hate that it keeps me from doing things I want to, or should, do. I wish I knew how to fight it or change it, but I don’t. I’ve tried everything my counselor suggests and nothing helps.