Swelltide.

Tired. Irritable. Grumpy.

Today, I worked with a few guys that I worked with years ago. Four or five years. They seemed excited to see me again. They seemed to remember who I was, and asked about people. Who is still with the company? Remember So-And-So? Who was that fat-tall-short-bald guy who used to work with you?

I don't know why, but this whole situation bothered me. I bothers me every time it happens. I never planned on working this crap job for so long. I never imagined that I would be one of those people stuck in some dead-end job because it pays the bills. I never imagined that I would be one of those people doing things I've lost interest in-- working a job that no longer serves me in any way. I don't make the kind of money I should. I haven't done anything new in years. There is nowhere for me to go. Every time I see someone I've worked with before, especially if it has been a long time, it just reminds me of how much of my life I have wasted.

Seven years. If I live to be seventy-- that is ten percent. It is shameful.

But, at this moment, what choice do I have?

Noise is bothering me. People are bothering me. I can't think of what to do with myself, and I get to wake up early tomorrow, to do something I don't like.

It is a typically American thing to do, I guess. Complain about our work. Complain about how unappreciated we are. How little of life makes sense. How nothing is fair. Cry. Bitch. Cry.

There are starving people in Africa who would do my job for less. I wish someone would. Hah.

Haven't slept well. Feeling like I could desperately use someone to talk to, but the girlfriend is working late tonight. Just me and the house. It is times like these that I wish I had it in me to waste the money on cable television. I could zone-out for a few hours and just go to bed.

Been one of those days. Anger. Irritability. Frustrated because I keep setting things down and not remembering where I've put them. Nothing going the way I want it to. Welcome, to hypomania.

Swelltide.

I didn't mean to disappear for so long, but I've had a lot going on. Some much needed time alone with the girlfriend. We both skipped out of work. She's been dealing with a lot of stress and it finally caught up with her, I think. They've switched up her schedule at work and now we'll be seeing even less of each other. I gave her all the encouragement I could-- tried to convince her to leave her job. She's unappreciated, underpaid and she puts up with much more than I would.

It is a hard point to make to a workplace right now. That, sure, you could replace me and probably find some schmoe who has been out of work for a year or two, pay him less but they won't be up to snuff. Everyone sees dollar signs right now. Companies are squeezing employees for everything they can. It isn't fair, but what are you going to do? Leaving is your only real option-- that or drop out completely, as I plan on doing, and get more education.

It is summer, and that means an insane work-load for me-- so maybe soon I'll finally be caught up on some bills. Still no laptop, which makes this even harder. This computer can't do two things at once, and I don't have the patience to log on and wait. When I have things to get out of my addled brain, it needs to be right then.

The last couple of days, I have logged in and checked in. Read Sparta's last post. Thought about things. Would lose inspiration and just log off the computer.

"All around me are successful people, doing big things.  I know that I am more gifted than most of those people.  Yet, here I sit, bemoaning my pitiful self.  And I’m only pitiful because I’m too afraid to make a move."  

I have wanted so desperately to contact him. But, I wouldn't know what to say, really. Other than-- that statement-- has been the story of my life. I am a coward. I can't speak up when I need to. I can barely get myself to do the day to day things that seem simple to everyone else. The last long-term friendships that I've made, other than my girlfriend, were when I was fourteen. These people, whose parents had money for college, or have had the drive to push through life on their own-- now have children, or degrees or some concrete life-plan. All I have is a rented house from my parents and no real goal for the future other than finishing up with school.

A lot of people I work with, or have known in the past, consider me one of the smartest people that they've met. I don't mean to sound egotistical-- this I think is a defining trait of someone living with bipolar. I am a musician, I think abstractly, I paint and write-- I read books about theoretical physics, for fun. Thoughts are simple things, to me-- and action is so difficult.

I have done nothing with my life. I have accomplished little beyond working the same job for seven years-- coming home at the end of a long day (or short day) and plucking a few strings on the guitar. Watching television for hours, until I go to bed. I procrastinate. I am seemingly incapable of doing the simplest things-- the things that other people don't think twice about.  To make it all worse, I struggle with the guilt of this on a daily basis. That I have done nothing. That I have wasted so much time.

No therapy again until the 5th of July, and I feel kind of lost. I may have to break from my job-- or not. I may lose my insurance if that happens-- if that happens. I am trying to catch up on all of things I should have done weeks ago to get into school. The phone rings and I don't answer because I don't feel like talking. Every little action seems so monumental. Every little stress is blown way out of proportion. A depressive period, that seems like nothing, because I've lived this way my entire life.

So, yes. I think this is enough for now. More maybe in a day or two. Getting the laptop back, hopefully, tomorrow.

Swelltide.

If only there were one more day in a weekend. I might go into Monday feeling a little more rested.

I have done nothing really all day. Watched Family Guy on DVD. Laundry. Took the dog out and walked around for a few minutes. That's it. And here it is, most of the day gone. Haven't done any of the things I have meant to.

Swelltide.

A person with bipolar disorder should work a flexible and accommodating job. Today, I drove all over the state (an exaggeration, but feels true) with no time to eat lunch. Tired of fast food, eating on the go and don't really have the money for it anyway. I am irritable beyond the normal, haven't eaten anything irritation.

In many ways, I am very fortunate to have the kind of job that I do. I can take a nap when I have the time, or hit up the book store. I'm not paid for it, but I can. I don't really have anyone breathing down my neck. Nobody goes out of their way to be a jerk to me, or most of the other people that I work with. But, at the other end of it all, I don't know my schedule for one day until closing time the day before. I am not paid well for what I do. There is no room for advancement, which suits most of my co-workers just fine. A dead end job, with a few perks. Low pay but health benefits and all that.

I can't and don't want to do it anymore. I am called last minute for things on a regular basis, usually when I already have enough to do. Though it is not really a technical job, it is billed as one-- to the company's clients. And, the company-- who makes three to four times what I make to have me out on a job site. I wake up, especially during the summer months, from anywhere between two to six in the morning, and am expected to put in a full day on top of it.

I'm not eating right, when I eat at all. I am not sleeping right. I have these little stresses added to me, from day to day and by the week's end I feel completely run down. It isn't good for me, and wouldn't be good for anyone with a sleep/mood/health disorder.

I want more for myself. I wish the the population as a whole would want more for themselves, then it would all change-- if everyone demanded more from their employers then companies would be forced to comply. But, right now its an employer's market.

I am getting really tired of hearing, "Well, at least you have a job..." I should feel grateful to have a job. But I feel like I shouldn't and no one should have to deal with the kind of bullshit that employers are getting away with.

Swelltide.

I haven't been posting like I want to, because my laptop is still getting worked on. Which leaves me with this ten year old PC, that I have to reboot to connect to the Internet and that likes to freeze up every time I press a button. Got my recovery disks in the mail today, so any day now I'll have the laptop back. Thank the lord.

Yesterday, therapy. It was a great session-- though, I am continually finding out what an emotional retard I am. Pushing people away, and keeping people at arm's length. Not letting anyone in.

We talked about a dream that I had a couple of nights ago (which is a therapy cliche, I know--) in which I was in an art class. There were twenty or so other people there, and this multifaceted mirror in the middle of the room. The teacher instructed us all to remove our clothes, sit in front of the mirror and draw ourselves in the nude. Obviously, a dream about revealing myself to the people around me. Letting people see me as I am. Looking at myself as I really am.

I don't do a whole lot of self-analysis. I try not to be critical of myself, and I try not to focus so much on the things that have happened to me in the past. If it becomes uncomfortable, I don't talk about it. I think about it, sometimes, but I don't talk about it. I sure as hell don't let anyone know that something is bothering me. While it is a healthy thing, to not dwell on the past-- it may not be so healthy to not think about it, or acknowledge it in the first place.

A big part of this, is that I don't want to be a burden to anyone. I don't want other people to have to deal with things that wear on me. Another part of it all, is that I don't like people, especially people that I don't know well, to know my business.

All of my attempts at opening up have seemed infantile. Immature. I simply don't know how. What a pitiful and painful thing to admit, that you don't know how to communicate things about yourself. My therapist though, tells me it gets easier to do the more you do it. I hope she is right.

I've been making some headway, but everything seems to progress so slowly. Eventually, work will be resentful of my taking an hour out of the week off. Eventually, I may lose my insurance altogether. But who knows?! Eventually... anything could happen.

I have had no major episodes of mania recently, though for me it might not happen often anyway. I have been sleeping better, and eating better. Taking my vitamins. Eating my greens. When things settle down, I may give quitting smoking a shot.

Swelltide.

Had a long drive to D.C. yesterday. Plenty of time to think about things, and plenty of time to evaluate some things.

I have felt stagnant the last couple of years. Living out of a tiny room. Working a job that bores me, and that I get nothing out of, more than a meager paycheck. I haven't painted anything in years. I've only just begun to create music again. I don't write anymore.

It is my fault.

It is easy to change. People just deny themselves the ability to change. I could have quit my job for something that satisfies me, years ago. I could have written a novel, or several novels, with the amount of time that I have wasted throughout my life, doing nothing. Playing video games. Taking naps in the afternoon. Last week, I had several days without work-- and I walked around in circles, feeling isolated and lonely, trying to think of something to do. I could have jumped in my car and went for a drive. I could have gone for a walk. I could have done anything. Instead, I took a nap on the couch. I folded laundry.

I deny myself happiness. Sometimes, I use bipolar as an excuse. To do nothing. To not feel well. To laze about and feel sorry for myself. That has become a new kind of hobby of mine. Sitting quietly, because I'm depressed. Allowing myself to feel lonely because I am depressed. Doing nothing because I am depressed.

My job bores me, because I let it. I could be reading a book, and getting paid to read it, nearly every day. I could be paying bills, and writing letters with my down-time. When work for me is slow-- I hate it. When I'm busy-- I hate it. Because, I want to hate it. I haven't asked for a raise-- though I am probably the most competent person there, because I never considered staying that long. Its been seven years. I should have left six years ago. I should have valued myself enough to have left six years ago.

I think my medication has begun to work. My moods have leveled off, a little. I've gotten a bit of sleep the last couple of days-- I feel pretty good.

Swelltide.

I am being tested.

I don't really subscribe the concept of a divine power that pits you against nature, or intervenes in my life to make me a better person (as my therapist seems to believe). I struggle with the concept of God, in general. Life just has a way of throwing things in your path, at the times you least (or most, depending on your perspective) need them.

I haven't been working much recently. The weather has been rainy, and just when things begin to dry out, we get more rain. Which means, that I am not making much money. Which means that I have been sitting at home a lot, stressing out because I am not making any money. Stressing about not making money and asking myself the big questions.What do I want from life? Is therapy making me any better? Is the medication working? How am I going to pay for school? How am I going to pay for school when I'm not really making any money as it is? Could I really handle working full-time and going to school full-time? What if I go manic and flip out while I'm at school?

It is exhausting, worrying so much.

My laptop is broken. Which I don't really have money to fix, but which needs to be fixed-- because of the impending education. The hard drive that I purchased for data-backup is not working. It had all of the system recovery stuff, and the music that we've spent money, and pictures on it. Gone. Like the car that I purchased a few months ago, only to have to put it into the shop after just getting it. A thousand or so dollars to get back on the road. Like the T.V. we bought a while back that broke soon after. DVD players. Coffee pot. My guitar, that was a birthday present. Everything.

I can't have something new. I can't have a job with steady hours. I can't have something that isn't going to fall apart or stop working altogether. It is draining. It is exhausting.

Severe migraine yesterday, from the moment I woke up I wanted to crawl out of my skin. Throwing up. Laying in the dark. I have never had a migraine like it-- and I hope I never do again.

Therapy tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to it. Obviously have some things that I want to talk about and deal with. If only therapy could be a few days a week. Is it possible to get paid going to therapy?

Sparta

I still can’t sleep like a regular person…

I’ve been in a weird place recently.  I’m not manic or energetic, but I’m not entirely depressed either.  I just have no desire to do anything remotely productive.  I’m finally going to apply for a job where a few of my friends work.  I’m not excited but at least I’ll be making money and won’t feel like an entire waste of space.  That will probably help my mood at least.

My mood is a funny thing.  It is definitely responsive to external stimuli, and I know that, but I sometimes I don’t put any effort into finding those positive stimuli.  That makes me feel lazy, but I bet the bipolar has something to do with it.  I usually have to leave my comfort zone to improve my mood, which has been really hard to do recently.  Sometimes it doesn’t even involve leaving my comfort zone.  Getting to bed at a reasonable time is really important.  I know this, but I don’t do it.  There are some pretty important things I need to do right now too.  For instance, I need to start working on my application to law school.  I need to find a new psychiatrist because mine is leaving.  I also need to get new sleeping medication and schedule a visit with my therapist.

It is just such a fight to get myself to do all of these things.  The longer I put them off, the harder it is to do them.  I’m ashamed that I haven’t scheduled an appointment or gotten new meds.  Those are super easy to do, but now it’s hard to face the reception lady.  That’s so completely irrational that it borders on the comical.  Still, I can’t do it.  It’s an internal struggle between what I know I should do and what I want to do.  Right now, the good guy is losing, and I have so much trouble turning things around. 

My mind hasn’t been sharp lately either.  I haven’t done much to stimulate it recently.  I’m taking an online class to finish my degree, but I just need the credits and took a super easy class to get them.  Therefore it is not a challenge at all.  I really enjoy intellectually stimulating stuff too.  It’s just that I’m too lazy to do anything that will, so I slip further into the abyss.

I’m stuck in this vicious circle.  Fall behind on work or bills or obligations and my mood declines.  As my mood declines, it becomes harder and harder to do those things that I know I must do.  Ignoring that voice nagging me to get to work only exacerbates the downward trend and so on.

You’re probably thinking that I really am in the middle of a definitively depressed state and am just in denial.  You would be wrong though.  I can get out of bed and function.  I could go for a run or hang out with friends or read a book.  I just don’t have any motivation to.  I’d rather sit around and play videogames, sadly.  I hope that I’ll begin to change that tomorrow.  I’ll let you know how that goes.

And glad to join you Swelltide.

Cheers,

Sparta

Swelltide.

Sparta, it's good to see you. I'm glad you've joined me. Your story has some similarities to mine and I'm glad you've decided to write with me here.

Today started off well. Woke up not too late or too early, tired as usual, but feeling pretty good overall. My girlfriend and I had a little trip planned. A two hour drive and a hike in the woods. A day off together.Nice weather. Not a lot of traffic.

When we hit the trail, we started walking up this incline. Trees. Roots. Rocks. Fairly steep. Twenty minutes or so, we come across a pile of poop in the trail. She doesn't want to keep going, convinced its bear poo. I sigh, and do everything I can to maintain. To stay patient and to stay calm, but it didn't last long.

I quietly loose it. I don't scream or yell at that moment. I just start walking back to the car. I take a few breaks for her to catch up and keep going.

I sit on a picnic bench near the car and smoke a few cigarettes. This is what I do when I get upset. Everything that I'm not supposed to do. I internalize everything. I don't speak when I need to. I don't get angry. I don't throw punches or scream. I just shut off.

I sit there thinking how nothing can just be easy. Nothing can go right. My parents said they would come with us hiking, and surprise-- they aren't there. My job sucks. I'm bored with everything. I am broke. I'm starting school in the fall, now dealing with bipolar, and learning what an emotional idiot I am.

This is the way it works for me. Every disappointment is more evidence, or just another example, of how everything just seems to disappoint me. I can't just go for a hike. I can't just have a job that I like. I can't have parents that are approachable and supportive. I can't have siblings or friends who take an active interest in my life. I can't just find another job. I can't finish my education as a fully functional human being. I can't have a new car that doesn't break or that I immediately have to put a bunch of money into. I can't...

This isn't fair to anyone, the way I deal with and handle things. None of these things that I'm thinking, I have actually spoken to anyone. My girlfriend, on the ride home says something along those lines. You can't have all of these things in your head and not say anything about them. At times, I am actually physically incapable of saying things-- I want to, but can't open mouth, can't speak up, can't say anything. It's the most frustrating thing in the world.

I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what to do about it, really. Just let things out when I can.

I think a punching bag would be a great investment for me. My girlfriend, who was just an unwitting bystander today, is so great. She makes me talk. She makes me open up. I think that is what I need sometimes, because I am so used to people not giving a shit-- so, I don't say anything.

Sparta

Greetings,

Swelltide asked for a companion to write along with him in his blog, and I told him that I’d give it a try.  It took me a while to get around to it though.  I finally have.  It’s partly due to my long-distance girlfriend visiting, but it’s also partly not.  I’m not exactly in the best shape currently.  We can get to that later though.

DISCLAIMER: This will probably be a bit lengthy, and you’ll know way more about me than you ever cared to know.  I also will occasionally use swear words or discuss/reference heavy subjects like suicide.  Apologies in advance.

A “QUICK” ASIDE

Suicide isn’t a good idea.  I know you hear the PSAs, etc. often, but if you’re even thinking about suicide then you need to seek help immediately.  That doesn’t mean that you need to seek help once you’re walking to the bridge.  If you are feeling down in the dumps and even have suicide cross your mind then you probably need to talk to someone, even a friend or relative.  Ideally you would go to a counselor, therapist, or other professional, but anything is better than sitting in a hospital gown in the psychiatric ward (not to mention being dead). 

There really isn’t any shame in reaching out before you even get to the point of suicidal thoughts.  There will be people who don’t understand and think that you’re just being dramatic or something like that.  Fuck them.  Most of those people wouldn’t have a different opinion after a suicide attempt.  They just won’t get it.  I don’t mean to say that they’re necessarily bad people.  They’re usually older and come from a time that had even less understanding of the brain and mental health than we do today.  Plus, you just can’t really see a mental health disorder, and someone who hasn’t experienced one may not understand.

END LECTURE

I think a brief introduction would probably be useful now.  I have been diagnosed with a mental health disorder for about three years now.  I was diagnosed with bipolar 2 about two years ago.  Prior to my mental health issues I had been a 3.8 student at a major university with no physical or mental ailments.  I got a cold or the flu every once in a while, but I was very healthy overall.  I then failed all of my classes in the first semester of my junior year.  I would shut myself in my room except for the bathroom and food for days.  Things were pretty bleak.  I had to call a friend in late November while holding a bottle of pills. 

That prompted me to get serious about finding professional help.  I was diagnosed with major depression and began therapy and medicine.  I still failed all but one of my classes during the second semester.  The hardest thing was just getting out of bed and going to class.  Writing papers was the second hardest thing.  That combination isn’t a recipe for success in college or really anywhere for that matter.

Nevertheless, I got a sweet job that summer and was having a great time.  I felt alive again.  I was around a lot of intellectual people, having fun, and doing my job well.  I was really thriving, but then on the last day we all went out to celebrate.  Something like six or eight hours later, I don’t really know for sure, some cops found me drunkenly stumbling down the street with my wrists bleeding.  I spent a few days in inpatient care and then a week in outpatient care, where they diagnosed me with bipolar 2.  Apparently, I had essentially been manic all summer, and that night it all came to a head.

My life has improved since then.  Medicines to treat bipolar disorder and therapy have helped immensely, and my amazing girlfriend, who stuck with me through the whole ordeal, helped even more.  I just graduated with a bachelor’s degree this May for instance.

By no means has it been a smooth ride though.  I can’t say that I haven’t ever had thoughts of suicide since that awful night.  I have lost touch with a lot of friends and have a much-diminished social life.  Keeping obligations, even important ones like therapy, has not been easy.  Paying bills on time is hard.  I can’t seem to handle everything in life at once, and that’s not even during the low points.

I’d say I’m somewhere in a down period right now.  I have to find a new psychiatrist because my current one will be leaving, and I have to contact her to get more sleeping meds.  Consequently, I have been staying awake until 6 or 7 in the morning and sleeping until 4 or 5 in the afternoon.  When I miss appointments with my therapist I usually can’t get myself to reschedule for a few weeks, and I missed an appointment almost a month ago.  So I haven’t seen him in a while.  I need to amend that.

Right now, I have been awake since 4:30 yesterday afternoon.  Videogames and TV have occupied most of my waking hours.  It really isn’t very ideal for a recent college graduate, seeing as I don’t have a job…

If you haven’t noticed already, I’m not the best writer.  I tend to ramble and have a mixture of formal and informal sentences.  Without frequent consultation of a thesaurus, I overuse certain words.  There is probably more that I don’t even notice.  And since I’m pointing out flaws, I have always been an extremely negative, critical person.  Especially toward myself.  (I’m also not going to always use complete sentences, proper grammar, nor proper structure.)  This negativity paralyzes me sometimes.

I want to help with Swelltide’s blog because, as he has pointed out, there isn’t a wealth of information for people with bipolar disorder.  More specifically, I haven’t found anything like this blog.  Message boards can be helpful, but they don’t have running commentary from someone.  You can read about other fucked up people’s problems and find some advice from other anonymous sources.  However, maybe this blog will help someone, and that makes it more that worth it.  Even if it doesn’t, it will still probably be therapeutic for me. 

So you’ll see posts from me now.  They’ll probably be more infrequent than Swelltide’s, but hopefully I’ll be helpful in adding a second perspective to bipolar disorder.  I will also try to keep my posts shorter than this one in the future too.  Congratulations on making it through my first one ever.

Cheers,

Sparta