Thursday, February 4, 2016

Or Maybe This is What Bipolar is Like

I've been in a funk for about a week now. I realized today that it is probably the come down from the mania I suffered and so I'm in the depressive stage. Is it awesome? Not in the least. But at least I recognize it. I recognize that I'm not upset about anything in particular, anything that has happened, anything outside of myself or, really inside myself. I'm just suffering from that horrible pull that drags you down at all times. All you want to do is lay in bed, regardless of whether or not you sleep, or make it to the end of your work day so you can cry on your way home even though you have nothing to cry about.

I knew I was in a funk last week but I didn't really connect things and realize I was in the depressive portion of manic-depression. Then again, I didn't realize I was in hypo-mania until that was over. Today, when I got home, I fed my cat and I did my yoga and I put my piggies on the bathroom floor and I just cried. I cried because I needed to. I kept saying, out loud, that it was OK and that this was going to pass and it wasn't going to be like before, back in the bad old days before I was treated. I just sat on the floor with my knees to my chest and did my best to get it out and reassure myself.

Knowing it would pass is such an amazing thing. I've spent the last week thinking and feeling things, negative things that I wasn't sure about. They mainly centered around the Bat. I didn't want him in my apartment and didn't look forward to seeing him on date night. His presence in my apartment made me claustrophobic and invaded and I just didn't like it. Keep in mind that I've spent ages campaigning for him to come to my place more often so I wouldn't have to go to his because it causes my commute to suck more than usual the next morning. But the Bat and I have gotten good about certain things in our relationship and one of them, for me, is not talking or communicating about something until I'm sure. Maybe it feels really intense right now but I know to give it a few days to make sure it is real. I've had a lot of thoughts about the Bat that I've kept quiet about because it didn't make sense in my own damn head. "I wish he would do..." and then "but he does ... so why do you need ...."

Not understanding what you are thinking or what you want or need is fucking shitty. The Bat and I decided some time ago that we would communicate certain things via email. If I hadn't had some wits about me, I would have been emailing him. But I knew I wasn't sure about how I felt or what I wanted from him or what my emotions really were/are. That is one of the most annoying things about this stupid disease. I can't articulate because I don't know and I don't know because I don't know if it is me or the neurotransmitters. I do feel I deserve Brownie points for finally being able to reign myself in and keeping myself from communicating because I think this is the first time I've had this level of self control.

I'm coming out of the depression, I think. I believe that because I can recognize it, it must mean I'm coming to the end of the episode. I texted my friend Tig about how I've been cycling and she was very nice but I have a feeling I did something to offend her. She was kind and said basically "if you'd crossed a line I would have let you know". She was kind enough to not tell me what it was I'd done if I had offended her which tells me she truly gets it. Not knowing how you feel, not knowing if it is real or not, it's so hard to explain. I feel like a crazy person just saying it. "I feel x but I don't know if I really feel x or if it is my disease." For those who care, people with bipolar II can often recognize a manic episode by realizing they are irritated with a person or a situation or both and then stand back and ask "am I really irritated? Let's see. What about this situation or this person's actions is irritating me" and they can realize, nope, it's just the neurotransmitters.

A peripheral aspect of cycling that really, really bothers me and embarrasses me is when others notice it. I apologized to the Bat once I'd come out of my mania and he said he'd been unhappy with some of my behavior and suspected it was my bipolar. Tig told me that she'd been wondering if I was OK because I'd seemed extremely anxious lately. I need to get better about hiding it on the rare occasions it happens, I really do. Not just because it is embarrassing but because I don't want to ruin my relationships with people.

For the record, I believe this was brought on by the stress of annual evaluations. I had a really good one but praise stresses me the fuck out for some reason. It's as though I feel I have to stay hyper vigilant and not only carry on but do better. I know that doesn't make sense but there you have it. What about bipolar or anxiety makes sense? And why the fuck is this shit around, just like poor eyesight? How is that something natural selection hasn't weeded out yet? 

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