I’ve been told a few times that keeping a journal would be good for me. Reporting to myself how I feel on a given day might serve to identify some of my triggers and mood fluctuations.
It’s a decent idea. Even if I just assign a number to each day.
My significant other said that I almost seem worse since the diagnosis and I had to make a distinction. I’m not worse. I’m being more honest with myself about the things I’m experiencing.
If I’m to get better, I need to tackle the issue of avoidance. And it’s a tough one to approach because as I mentioned before, the truth is heavy when you begin to come out of your manic depressive life.
This shit isn’t pretty. I’ve hurt people close to me in ways that don’t make sense. In trying to identify my motivation, one could assume that I was being purposefully harmful. I’ve never struggled so much with relationships in my entire life.
For example, I wanted nothing more than to offer my child a feeling of safe and secure support from me and yet I find myself completely unable to bond with her. My personal struggles are standing in between me and everything I’ve ever worked for. And I feel damaged. Like the hurt I’ve dished out and received back is palpable. When I think about the way I’ve reacted to the smallest things I am sad. Disappointed. Perplexed.
And yet I’m still existing on this defensive and reactionary plain.
It’s exhausting if I can be honest.
BUT this disconnect offers a silver lining in a way. Without the feeling of isolation I would probably never have realized how badly I needed help. If nothing else, it’s this feeling that has me the most concerned. Because I know my family matters and I know that my daughter deserves stability.
Right now I’m anything but stable. But I’m looking in that direction.
So… the first thing to do is set some goals.