Last month I urged you all to throw kindness around like confetti… I hope you’re still throwing it in abundance.
My mind has been a flurry of activity recently with Bipolar signals flashing vibrantly and unavoidably… I’ve been working for months to keep them at a dim glow but this week that glow became a bright white light that just wouldn’t fuck off even though I’ve been doing my best to filter it.
My bipolar was triggered so I’m now dealing with an episode, recovery is not out of reach but I’ve been trying to make head and tail as to what’s keeping me awake at night in anxious sweats, constant nausea and migraines and headaches a throbbing mass in my head.
I’ve spoken about all of the recent change in my last blog post and no doubt the one before and as I type this at 2am on a Monday evening I had the eureka moment I’ve been trying to hunt down.
Let me break it down.
1. I’ve worked really hard to get my shit together, to rebuild my confidence when two unavoidable redundancies in a row destroyed it and I’ve finally found a permanent role in Devon that meets my career wants and needs and it’s for a company I can see myself flourishing in.
2. I have a home that’s bright and full of character that I’ve turned into my sanctuary where I feel safe and secure in and able to share it with friends and family without caveats or ‘please excuse the…’
3. I’ve met someone who I can be myself, warts and all with. Who possibly loves cats more than me and makes epic playlists like its 1998.
I finally have things that I really care about and am happy with and I am in constant fear I’m going to fuck it up or it’s going to fail. And when you’ve been keeping an episode at bay for months it doesn’t take much for the depressive bipolar monster to come and have a field day in your mind.
Every negative thought, every worry I’ve ever had has reared its ugly head and it feels like my head might explode like something out of a 70’s sci-fi movie.
Keeping up appearances.
I’m sure those of you with Bipolar can relate, relate to the explosive mind and fear but also to the steps it takes to conquer it. The steps it takes to keep up appearances until you’re back to yourself.
And I am disheartened, disappointed and fed up. When your mind plays tricks on you, when you know your brain is a puppet on strings and you’re not currently the puppeteer it’s hard to put into real words for people to understand. It’s irrational and you know it is… but then that’s anxiety in a nutshell.
I write this not for anyone to try and save me from it or give me solutions but because writing often helps me deconstruct what’s going on… so bare with me whilst I move forward… it might take a few side steps and pauses in track. But I’ll get there.
I am hopeful. The Bipolar hasn’t won this round yet.