in-between

๐™–๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™จ๐™ฉ๐™ฎ ๐™–๐™จ๐™›, ๐™—๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™จ๐™š๐™ก๐™›๐™ž๐™š๐™จ ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง ๐™—๐™ค๐™ค๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™ข๐™ฎ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™›๐™ž๐™™๐™š๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š โœจ๐Ÿ–ค๐Ÿฅ€

I donโ€™t know if Iโ€™m in a bad mood or not. I feel shitty. Mopey. But not depressed. The super fucking confusing to me. And upsetting. But itโ€™s manageable. But itโ€™s annoying and I donโ€™t like it. But it isnโ€™t paralyzing me. Why is existing still something I have to feel guilty about? Iโ€™m confused. This period of my life is just uncertainty. Now that the other chaos has subsided, the uncertainty Iโ€™ve always been plagued with can be front and fucking center. Itโ€™s fine. Iโ€™m just off and blah and yucky. I canโ€™t focus, either. Which doesnโ€™t fucking help. But anyway.

*… ๐™„ ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™™๐™ค ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฎ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ข๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ + ๐™„ ๐™™๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ฃ ๐™ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฌ ๐™ž๐™› ๐™„ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค …*

hit the brain jackpot, that’s for sure

I was thinking, and Iโ€™ve decided thatย morning routines arenโ€™t easily attainable for people with adhdย (like me) who struggle with jumping from one task to another.ย BUT. theyโ€™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 DOย 

My morning routine consists of doing different tasks in succession, as routines do, and Iโ€™ve been toying with it since I was in the hospital in February, right before quarantine started.

Maybe Iโ€™m just lacking other structures in my life, but it is frustrating, I think.

medicated, still bipolar, what now

Iโ€™m having a hard time focusing. Iโ€™m anxious and stressed out over it. Feeling yucky. Off. Like somethings wrong but I canโ€™t figure out what. The result is irritability and frustration. Itโ€™s overall just a dull version of what Iโ€™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, Iโ€™ve suffered from bipolar symptoms/depression. That explains what this bullshit is. Itโ€™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 Iโ€™d benefit from proper adhd treatment. But my heart definitely leapt when I had that a-ha moment of โ€œthhaaatโ€™s whatโ€™s going on here.โ€ It feels better when things make sense, at least.

Negative self-talk is not helping โ€ผ๏ธ

Wallowing in feelings of defeat wonโ€™t accomplish anything!

Time to โ€œchange the scriptโ€

as my therapist would say

Affirmations:

  • Iโ€™m okay, I got this, I have the situation under control
  • Iโ€™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, Iโ€™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
  • Iโ€™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

โœจโœจโœจ

Iโ€™ve been having a weird week. Iโ€™m mopey. My mood is low. I know itโ€™s probably because of the lack of daylight (I love winter but ugh). Or maybe itโ€™s just that I always get like this before Christmas. I canโ€™t complain. I havenโ€™t had an episode in almost ten months (since I was in the psych hospital), and thatโ€™s three times as long as I typically go. And even still, like Iโ€™m irritable as hell now but itโ€™s manageable and thatโ€™s phenomenal. I feel guilty complaining. I definitely donโ€™t have the โ€œrightโ€ to (but see thatโ€™s an example of the negative thoughts Iโ€™m trying to kick away).

Who knows. I just have to keep chugging along.

โ€œAnother dayโ€ pic from last year, during a major eating disorder relapse and a major bipolar episode. โ€œMerry and brightโ€ pic from this week, which I took bc I felt pretty ๐Ÿ™‚

Sundays are for gettin’ shit done

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.

Monday 11.9.20

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.

oh hey, positivity

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.”

Like. No.

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.

Some T H O U G H T S:

My moods was stable as fuck and consistent for a good three days and today Iโ€™m just blahhhh, which I guess is normal, but itโ€™s annoying. Iโ€™m unmotivated and uncertain and unfocused. I somehow turned a cozy and relaxing day into a waste.

I do so much mood tracking and Iโ€™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?

Iโ€™m disappointed that my class is turning out to be less than ideal. I mean, it is what it is, and Iโ€™ll take what was given to me and run with it. And I guess itโ€™s good that Iโ€™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). Iโ€™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 thatโ€™s lumped into this whole paragraph??? My brain is weird.

Iโ€™m really sick of the rainy weather and I know it has such potential to be comfy, that itโ€™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. Iโ€™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.

I was totally on the path towards an ๐–Š๐–•๐–˜๐–Ž๐–”๐–‰๐–Š but I think I somehow managed to avoid it โœจ

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 โค

Hi enjoy this selfie from my floor purely to celebrate the fact that I can now officially get onto the floor and then get up again without sounding and looking like and FEELING like Iโ€™m my grandpaโ€™s age (which I believe is 92) ๐Ÿ˜Žย #imnotoldย #notthatoldย #notyetanyway
My rheumatologist appt had to be canceled because the nine vials of blood they took from me havenโ€™t yielded any results yet, so Iโ€™ll have to wait a bit longer to find out what the actual issue is, but I can move and Iโ€™m fucking thankful. Like, people, you take for granted being able to shave your legs or hook up your bra when youโ€™re able to do it. Yeah Iโ€™m thankful I can hook my fucking braย #gratitude

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 โค

me this weekend…showed this to my boyfriend and my cousin and they laughed lmao, and like, shit I’m so glad to have people who GET me and my brain

๐š๐ฆ๐›๐ข๐ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ

๐Ÿ“๐ฉ๐ฆ | ๐€๐ฆ ๐ˆ ๐ข๐ง ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐š๐ง๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐ง๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ฅ๐ž๐ž๐ฉ๐ข๐ง๐ ? ๐€๐ฆ ๐ˆ ๐ ๐จ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ญ๐จ ๐›๐ž ๐š๐ง๐ฑ๐ข๐จ๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐จ๐ซ ๐ข๐ซ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐š๐›๐ฅ๐ž ๐š๐ ๐š๐ข๐ง ๐ญ๐จ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ซ๐จ๐ฐ? ๐ˆ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ ๐จ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฅ๐ž๐š๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐š ๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐ž๐ญ๐ž ๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ฐ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐š๐ง ๐ž๐ฉ๐ข๐ฌ๐จ๐๐ž? ๐ˆ ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ž๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐ง๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐š๐›๐ฅ๐ž ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ฎ๐ง๐ฌ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐ฌ๐Ÿ๐ข๐ž๐, ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐ˆ’๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ข๐ฆ๐ฉ๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐š๐ง๐ญ ๐›๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ˆ ๐œ๐š๐ง’๐ญ ๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐Ÿ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ž๐ซ ๐จ๐ง ๐ฐ๐ก๐š๐ญ. ๐ˆ๐Ÿ ๐ˆ’๐ฆ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐ข๐ง ๐š๐ง ๐ž๐ฉ๐ข๐ฌ๐จ๐๐ž, ๐ˆ’๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐›๐ซ๐š๐œ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐จ๐ง๐ž. ๐–๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐š ๐ฐ๐š๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž. ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ง ๐š๐ ๐š๐ข๐ง, ๐ˆ ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐๐ž๐ ๐š ๐›๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ค ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐™˜๐™ง๐™–๐™ฏ๐™ฎ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐ˆ ๐ ๐จ๐ญ ๐š๐ง ๐Ÿ– ๐ฆ๐จ๐ง๐ญ๐ก ๐ฅ๐จ๐ง๐  ๐จ๐ง๐ž. ๐’๐จ ๐ˆ ๐ฌ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐œ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐š๐ข๐ง. ๐ˆ’๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐›๐ž ๐จ๐ค๐š๐ฒ. ๐ˆ ๐ง๐ž๐ž๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐š๐œ๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ž๐ฅ๐Ÿ. ๐†๐ž๐ญ ๐ก๐ฒ๐ฉ๐ž๐ซ๐Ÿ๐จ๐œ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐จ๐ง ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ .

Iโ€™ve been binge-reading Halloween books on every one of my breaks today (haunted mansion YA books, aaaaand the haunted mansion Disney Kingdoms comicโ€ฆtrying to get through these three before I move onto my Clue themed book, ษชษด แด›สœแด‡ สœแด€สŸสŸ แดกษชแด›สœ แด›สœแด‡ แด‹ษดษชา“แด‡).

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise โœจ

6:23

Waiting for the sun to rise, I have been for three hours already

Wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, my grandmaโ€™s old brown leather jacket, boots of the same color, my other grandmaโ€™s locket

(it matters because Iโ€™m comfortable and cozy, feeling cute and calm, and because Iโ€™m patiently awaiting the morningโ€™s official invitation to join it outside)

Come on light, come on optimistic, hopeful light

Spill over into the blue thatโ€™s gradually fading into purple, contrast the darkness with your red, oranges, golds, and yellows

My hair is pulled into a bun so itโ€™ll be curly tomorrow, still wet (which isnโ€™t ideal in the 45ยฐ weather, but lo and behold, colder weather will be here soon and thereโ€™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 theyโ€™ve got a way to do so that doesnโ€™t interrupt the stillness, and theyโ€™re making my front porch sound both musical and…whatโ€™s the word for โ€œmore nature-y than it actually isโ€

6:42

I think itโ€™s time, so I step outside into the chill and as it reaches my core, I donโ€™t shy away from it but inhale deeply and hold for a bit

*

Another dayโ€™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 canโ€™t deny it was there, if ever briefly

*

Iโ€™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 Iโ€™m thankful, and Iโ€™m not taking it for granted, and Iโ€™m handling my issues

6:55

Itโ€™s cold, Iโ€™m probably going to go back inside, but I like starting my mornings out here, and Iโ€™m glad that I did today

๐š๐ง ๐ž๐ฆ๐จ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐š๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ž๐ž๐ค ๐จ๐ซ ๐ฌ๐จ

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 Iโ€™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 itโ€™s aboht to die and itโ€™s just sitting here but itโ€™s aoooooooo soooooooo fucking goddsmn fucking loud like shut the hell ip it shouldnโ€™t be loud why are you so loud STOPPSODNDBJSJDBDBDJ I canโ€™t shake I canโ€™t stand typos so Iโ€™m it Iโ€™m not fixing them because if I have to backspace one more goddamn fucking shitting time Iโ€™m gonna kill myself I donโ€™t want to go to clas bc the other people are sooooooooooo stupid like how are human beings so stupid and annoying I canโ€™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 itโ€™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

Good times.

^^^ 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 โค 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.

๐š๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐ž๐ง๐ญ, ๐ˆ ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ž๐ฅ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐ˆ ๐œ๐š๐ง ๐ค๐ž๐ž๐ฉ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฏ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ๐ฐ๐š๐ซ๐ ๐š๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐›๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ

So that’s what I’m gonna do because, well, there’s not much else to do anyway haha