I don’t know if I’m in a bad mood or not. I feel shitty. Mopey. But not depressed. The super fucking confusing to me. And upsetting. But it’s manageable. But it’s annoying and I don’t like it. But it isn’t paralyzing me. Why is existing still something I have to feel guilty about? I’m confused. This period of my life is just uncertainty. Now that the other chaos has subsided, the uncertainty I’ve always been plagued with can be front and fucking center. It’s fine. I’m just off and blah and yucky. I can’t focus, either. Which doesn’t fucking help. But anyway.
I was thinking, and I’ve decided that morning routines aren’t easily attainable for people with adhd (like me) who struggle with jumping from one task to another. BUT. they’re super necessary for people with bipolar disorder (like me again!) who have a messed up circadian rhythm and could benefit from structure and routine to counteract the chaos they live with internally. but like
WHAT ARE BIPOLAR PEOPLE WITH ADHD SUPPOSED TO DO
My morning routine consists of doing different tasks in succession, as routines do, and I’ve been toying with it since I was in the hospital in February, right before quarantine started.
Maybe I’m just lacking other structures in my life, but it is frustrating, I think.
I’m having a hard time focusing. I’m anxious and stressed out over it. Feeling yucky. Off. Like somethings wrong but I can’t figure out what. The result is irritability and frustration. It’s overall just a dull version of what I’ve been feeling for the better half of my life (bipolar depression).
But I have to remember that for the better half of my life, I’ve suffered from bipolar symptoms/depression. That explains what this bullshit is. It’s just way less intense because I take 193741 pills every morning and night.
I can either see that as an unfortunate reality, that nothing can ever fully cure this bullshit. Or I can see it as an improvement, an important step forward, a bridge to being able to do better things.
I know I’d benefit from proper adhd treatment. But my heart definitely leapt when I had that a-ha moment of “thhaaat’s what’s going on here.” It feels better when things make sense, at least.
Wallowing in feelings of defeat won’t accomplish anything!
I’m okay, I got this, I have the situation under control
I’m worthy and valuable regardless of my mental state
People love and respect me
I am smart and creative and I have good ideas
I give off good vibes, I’m fun, and people like being around me
I have cool hobbies and interests
I am resilient (boyyyyy am I!)
I know how to calm and ground myself
I’m strong as fuck
I have so much love inside me, and I give it freely, and that makes me happy
Life is in constant flux but that fact is oddly comforting
I am whole
I am unique
I’ve been having a weird week. I’m mopey. My mood is low. I know it’s probably because of the lack of daylight (I love winter but ugh). Or maybe it’s just that I always get like this before Christmas. I can’t complain. I haven’t had an episode in almost ten months (since I was in the psych hospital), and that’s three times as long as I typically go. And even still, like I’m irritable as hell now but it’s manageable and that’s phenomenal. I feel guilty complaining. I definitely don’t have the “right” to (but see that’s an example of the negative thoughts I’m trying to kick away).
I don’t think I got anything done yesterday (besides some online Christmas shopping!), but today was better in that regard. And in lots of other regards.
I woke up around 8, took my meds, recorded my mood info on my apps, got dressed and ready for the day, got my coffee. Typical.
But I checked off a few good habits from my list. Made my bed. Stretched my aching body.
Oh, I painted my nails. I picked out a few outfits for this week (a practice I was into back in my high school years…laying out exactly what I was going to wear because that’d be one less thing to think about during the chaotic week ahead).
I got some volunteer work done. I took one of the last tests for my class.
Texted with various people. Went out with my boyfriend just so we could say we left the house haha.
I’ve been reading more, which is good. I tend to start books and not finish them (hello, hi, I have ADHD) , and even though I usually beat myself up about that or make it a goal to NOT do that, I’ve stopped feeling guilty about it. And it makes me a happier reader. And besides, they’ll always be there for me to finish later, AND it makes finishing books that much more satisfying.
In other news, we finally figured out what’s wrong with my body. Apparently my bloodwork showed my rheumatoid factor was as high as it could possibly be (over 100 when it should be around 6…yeah, SIX). And with that, and with a few other tests, the doctor concluded that it’s rheumatoid arthritis.
I’m glad it has a name. I’m glad there’s a reason why I can’t hook my bra or lift my legs to put my underwear on (and then my pants, and then my socks, and then my shoes, and ugh holy shit).
I asked her why I have it, what I did wrong. She said I didn’t do anything wrong lol, it usually happens after the body goes through some tough shit, like having surgery or giving birth. I didn’t experience either of those, so go figure, but eh, maybe starving myself yet again for a few months had something to do with it? Whatever.
There’s a medication I can take to help the arthritis. Another pill (twice a day). Add it to my collection. It literally looks like I have a whole pharmacy on my dresser. I’m not mad; it’s worth it to be able to MOVE and FUNCTION haha, but yeah.
The meds won’t kick in for a few more weeks, so in the meantime I’m on another steroid to help ease the pain. The last one really helped, which is a testament to how inflamed I am (oh joy), but you might recall me mentioning that I was rather moody.
That IS, apparently, a thing. I felt a lot better when I realized that was probably what was going on. Although I of course started to question myself and be all like “well maybe I’m just imagining it.”
I’m on a small dose of steroid, but I’m finding that I’m pretty sensitive to it. I’m irritable today. Just the same as last time.
I talked to my psychiatrist about it. She said to trust myself and do what feels best. It was nice to hear her say that she thinks I’m self-aware. Mostly because I don’t really know this woman. I’ve never met her in person (thanks covid), and just, ahh. Whatever. I’m just glad she gives me the meds I need now.
I’m excited to talk to my therapist tomorrow about, well, about all the things I just wrote about. It’s always fun to process things. It’s even more fun for me to process things with my therapist (who’s so fucking cool). Added bonus when I’m process things that aren’t terrifying, terrible depressions or all-consuming anxiety and whatnot.
My moods was stable as fuck and consistent for a good three days and today I’m just blahhhh, which I guess is normal, but it’s annoying. I’m unmotivated and uncertain and unfocused. I somehow turned a cozy and relaxing day into a waste.
I do so much mood tracking and I’m so careful with how I handle my moods and symptoms and how I handle my disorder. But am I doing ALL that I can? Does any of it even matter?
I’m disappointed that my class is turning out to be less than ideal. I mean, it is what it is, and I’ll take what was given to me and run with it. And I guess it’s good that I’m sure of my values and sure of how I feel (which is a rare thing with me haha, in terms of feelings, at least). I’m determined to not less this whole experience bring me back to the center of nowheresville.
See? Trying to be motivated. Because all I want is to be creative and productive and to make a difference. Or a impact. Or something. I want to be loved too, and to enjoy love and affection, and somehow that’s lumped into this whole paragraph??? My brain is weird.
I’m really sick of the rainy weather and I know it has such potential to be comfy, that it’s great reading weather, that it makes the flowers grow, blah blah. But like fuck I need some sunshine I want to sit outside and have my mornings out there.
Speaking of which, I need to regulate my sleep. I’ve been sleeping GOOD, to be honest, but I go to bed too late or sleep too late even when I go to bed early. I want my mornings. I need to set the right time for my day. It fucks me up when I have a bad morning, and even though I know I always have the power to turn my day around, it annoys me.
First of all, I’m not in pain anymore. It might be the MEGA DOSE of vitamin D every week working for me or maybe the steroids calming down whatever inflammation was there or perhaps both. But I’m eternally thankful to not be in constant discomfort. And more than that, I’m thankful to only have one more steroid pill to take because I really looked into it, and bipolars really should avoid them. But anyway.
I dunno how I was okay with suffering for so many months not being able to bend or stretch or move or use my muscles (not sure how I went 14 years without being properly treated for my mood disorder, but I guess that explains the other thing now, doesn’t it, Lol). I talked to my therapist about that. Good times ❤
I have to wait a few more weeks to see what the actual issue is with my body (I was told it could be something autoimmune, so like, I’m eager for an answer and a plan of how to deal with it from here) but I feel patient.
I’ll tell you a THING, though, I was pretty hyped up and approaching hypomanic this weekend. Like. Whenever I start laughing like a lunatic, that’s when I know something concerning is happening. And also? This one is hard to explain, but when I relate SO MUCH to a song that I feel it in my cells?? Yeah, hypomanic. I first noticed that in 2018 when I was wildlyyyy and chaotically energetic and I had this one song on repeat and I was swimming laps like a pro swimmer even though I’m not and just, I felt every note, every lyric, every facet of it, and I felt it so deeply.
Bipolar people tend to feel EVERYTHING deeply. We feel more. We react more. That’s an actual thing. But the way that relates to music is a telltale sign for me. I’m not articulating this in a way that does it justice, but I think that’s fine. I think my peopleeeee will understand this ❤
I’ve been binge-reading Halloween books on every one of my breaks today (haunted mansion YA books, aaaaand the haunted mansion Disney Kingdoms comic…trying to get through these three before I move onto my Clue themed book, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʟʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴɪғᴇ).
Waiting for the sun to rise, I have been for three hours already
Wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, my grandma’s old brown leather jacket, boots of the same color, my other grandma’s locket
(it matters because I’m comfortable and cozy, feeling cute and calm, and because I’m patiently awaiting the morning’s official invitation to join it outside)
Come on light, come on optimistic, hopeful light
Spill over into the blue that’s gradually fading into purple, contrast the darkness with your red, oranges, golds, and yellows
My hair is pulled into a bun so it’ll be curly tomorrow, still wet (which isn’t ideal in the 45° weather, but lo and behold, colder weather will be here soon and there’s nothing I can do but get used to it)
Sitting at the kitchen table, door already open so I can grab my coffee, already poured, and my book, Halloween-themed and exciting, and go sit on the steps to revel in the morning silence
The birds are already chirping, though they’ve got a way to do so that doesn’t interrupt the stillness, and they’re making my front porch sound both musical and…what’s the word for “more nature-y than it actually is”
I think it’s time, so I step outside into the chill and as it reaches my core, I don’t shy away from it but inhale deeply and hold for a bit
Another day’s begun, although it feels weird to say that after the night awake just warped time around itself
Even during my darkest moments, I usually woke up with some level of optimism; certainly not a stellar amount all the time, but I remember talking about it in therapy and my therapist told me that my prognosis is better because of it
Now, it might have taken life merely a minute to knock the optimism right out of me, but even I can’t deny it was there, if ever briefly
I’m irritable again, and I definitely know what usually follows such fervent desire to rip my face off, but (as I shouted at the skies countless times for countless years), all I needed was a god damn break…and I got one, and I’m thankful, and I’m not taking it for granted, and I’m handling my issues
It’s cold, I’m probably going to go back inside, but I like starting my mornings out here, and I’m glad that I did today
Or perhaps there’s a better word than “emotional.”
It’s been a period full of quiet mornings and peaceful cups of coffee drank on my front steps as the world wakes up. It’s been a week of reading a good book, of existing in the realm of social media (mainly on tumblr, this week), and trying to stay on top of everything I had to do.
It was a really really phenomenally fun weekend. My sister and her family came up to visit and I saw the absolute joy that is my nephew and he made me so beyond happy (they all did, but he’s more special to me than words). We saw our extended family, went pumpkin picking, and played a whole lot of Elmo songs for my little man to dance around to.
The lack of five minutes to myself this long weekend might have contributed to my rather random display of bipolar rage the past few days. I literally haven’t been that way in forever. I haven’t lost my shit, I haven’t felt that painfully “itchy” frustration, that “I want to rip my face off and burn it” kind of restless exhaustion and exasperation. It’s unique.
And not for nothing, even though it’s been eight months (EIGHT MONTHS) since I’ve lost my mind (read: had an episode), it’s still really fuckin’ familiar.
Excerpts of my journals, for your reading pleasure:
J take it mavxjxndbdbxjxbxbxvgdvd I take it back I’m not handling the bipolar rage well at all I want to ducking kill everyone fmmb slabs dbdbdvvdvdvdsvvd I want to fucking kill everyone and everything and my laptop is plugged in bc it’s aboht to die and it’s just sitting here but it’s aoooooooo soooooooo fucking goddsmn fucking loud like shut the hell ip it shouldn’t be loud why are you so loud STOPPSODNDBJSJDBDBDJ I can’t shake I can’t stand typos so I’m it I’m not fixing them because if I have to backspace one more goddamn fucking shitting time I’m gonna kill myself I don’t want to go to clas bc the other people are sooooooooooo stupid like how are human beings so stupid and annoying I can’t even explain it. My sleeves are annoying me. I already snapped at my boyfriend and I ha myself I hate myself for it j mean he gets it but it’s still not fair and I jdjsbfvfbf f d KUSTTT. JUUUUSSSTTTT got through being all thankful for not being crazy and fucking fuck for once
^^^ That is what I’ve told myself for the past few days.
And now for a sidenote that’s probably suuuuuper relevant to what I’m going through right now:
I’ve been in the process of going to doctors trying to figure out why my body is stiff and sore, why my limbs are heavy and painful. The regular doc said my blood showed low Vitamin D, which could explain a lot of my symptoms. But I’ve been on a mega dose of it for three weeks now and I still feel ehhhh.
I had the rheumatologist earlier this week and I explained everythingggg (I had a whole list of things I tell her, thanks to my therapist’s urging ❤ haha) and she started me on steroids for what is probably an autoimmune or inflammatory issue.
I do not think bipolar people are supposed to take steroids, but I need to collect more data. Some basic google searches and readthroughs of articles tell me I’m probably correct, but like. Fuck. I’m desperate to not be in pain.