Since being diagnosed, I’ve learned a lot. Not just about bipolar, but the brain in general. And about myself as a person.
I don’t always like the person I see in the mirror.
It’s a work in progress.
See…. I’m pretty lazy. I know this. But I also know that healing from this crisis is half about finding the medication that I need to help me get through, but the other half is about working at it. Working to change.
Six months ago, I couldn’t set goals. I couldn’t even think of anything to motivate me to shower, let alone change my entire way of living. In fact, life… At the time… Seemed like altogether too much work.
And it’s frustrating because I’m impatient. I want to be able to make big changes immediately and then immediately after that I want results.
Matters of the mind don’t work that way.
Today I can set small goals. I don’t always achieve them, but I give myself credit for trying. To be honest, some days I get angry. Frustrated. I get fed up with my slips and my old habits.
So many things that I know I would be better off without. Personality traits that don’t serve me. Gut reactions that make a situation worse.
Plus… Honesty is brutally hard to muster when it’s been a stranger for so long.
I don’t trust anyone.
It’s a problem.
Because if I could trust, it might be okay to lean on someone else now and again, instead of always feeling like I have to be on my toes. My friends. My family. My partner.
I’m afraid of hitting the ground when the trust fall goes bad. I’m afraid of humiliation when I am inevitably rejected.
Of course I’ll be rejected… by everyone. Because I deserve to be. If it hasn’t happened yet with someone… it will.
That’s the mindset I live inside. Always waiting for the shoe to drop.
It. Is. Exhausting.
So I ask myself, what’s worse? Living life the way I have been? Shying away from doing any real work? Or do I take the effort I’ve spent worrying and use that to address what’s really going on?
I’ve tried living in denial. I’ve tried to live and love in spite of my emotional issues. But in truth, I’d rather change the narrative. Because there was a time when I felt good. There was a time when I made the right choices and ran a household and I was … Good.
I believe that I can be good again. Only this time better.
One day after another.