I
can’t believe I’m back here again. I don’t know why I’m so surprised, I’ve
never claimed to be cured of Bipolar Disorder, nor do I think I ever will be.
It’s going to happen for the rest of my life. I guess this time is different
because I have done pretty well for quite a while. It felt like my depressive
states weren’t as long and believe me; I was enjoying that. I’ve felt this way
for a week now, and it’s taking everything I have to force myself to sit down
and write this blog post.
I
should be doing something; anything. Something on a grand scale that cements my
legacy. Instead, I feel like I’m failing at life once again. I need to stay relevant.
My story needs to stay relevant. But, how can you claim to be a writer when you
can’t even write. I’m not suicidal. I put that notion out of my brain in 2013. I
can’t even site anything specific that has happened to cause me to feel this
way, but despite my best efforts, I do feel this way, and I need to deal with
it.
I
can’t keep my garbled up thoughts together. I’m struggling, and I’ve crashed
hard.
I
keep telling myself, just get up and do it! Why is it so hard? Even writing
this, I feel unorganized and disjointed. I don’t know how to get my thoughts
together. So I write, regardless. You never know when you can suddenly have a
breakthrough or make a connection. You may never even realize you helped someone.
You’re
a fighter – I’m a fighter
We
have no choice but to make it through this round.
I
can’t concentrate, but my head keeps screaming, KEEP WRITING!
Bipolar
Disorder is a painful, insidious disease. I’ve experienced depression before
that just kind of felt like the blues. This is not that. I’m stuck here in this
painful, crippling rut. I can’t even remember my name somedays, but I keep fighting.
We did our podcast today, and I spoke to the audience and the guest. Does that
mean I feel better? Hardly, it means I can put on a mask if I need to.
Someone
out there may feel the same way. I could help people. That would be worth
tearing off this band-aid and exposing the wound, wouldn’t it?
So
much is racing through my brain. I just don’t want to fail yet again. It hurts,
and it’s humiliating. I think when you have Bipolar Disorder, it hurts even
worse. I need rest and some way to keep my mind off the bad stuff. So, I’ll figure
that out and try to move forward. I can only go up or down, and right now, I
feel as if I’m just about as low as a person can go. Here’s hoping something
positive heads my way. Until then, I’ll keep trying and keep fighting. That’s
all I can do.
