What Now?

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.