Swelltide.

My prescription has lapsed, again. It has been a couple of days and I haven't had the ambition, the drive to get it filled. I am not even sure where the prescription actually is and my next psychiatry meeting isn't until next week. Therapy this week, I need to cancel because of circumstances at work.

I alternate between feeling invincible and being full of energy, to feeling like I can't do anything. The last couple of days, I've barely been able to get myself out of bed on time and show up to work when I am supposed to. It just doesn't seem important. Due in no small part, because of nights like tonight where it gets late and I'm not tired, or don't want to go to bed.

Work has been a bust for me the last few days. I drive the hour to work and find out that nothing is really going on. I am glad for the break, seeing as how last week I worked a jillion hours. I deserve it, somehow. Though I know that I should be working all that I can now as school is coming up and I could use the money.

What ever. Woe is me. I keep coming back to that, no matter how much I try. Try to focus on the positive. Try not to forget where I set something down. Try not to forget to put my reports through the system at the end of the day. Try to wake up on time. I always forget something, or forget to do something. It gets old. Having to make excuses, because I can't get out of bed on time or remember where something is.

On a lighter note, I was reading the Hobbit aloud to my girlfriend in bed. She fell asleep. It has been a while since we've done anything like this. Having our own place has been good for us both. I am afraid that when school starts, I am going to be so busy with work and my studies that I won't have time for things like this anymore. Spending time with her grounds me. It keeps me stable and focused. If it wasn't for her, I would probably be living out of my car and selling bootlegged movies to feed myself or something. She makes me sane.

Swelltide.

The disorganization of my job stresses me out. What a waste of a day that today was.

Everything could be so easy, and everything could go so smoothly if someone wanted them to. I am not really sure whose job such things is and I've been working at this same place for years. I understand that some things are out of my control and some things are better left alone. Pick your battles and all of that. Who would I be to to even mention any of this stuff at work. anyway? My life is a mess. I am one of the most disorganized people that I know.

I have still been irritable. Still been lethargic. Still feeling isolated.

I've been eating mostly junk. I haven't been sticking with a steady sleep schedule, as impractical as that is for me most of the time anyway. I haven't been getting much exercise. I am smoking too much. Add a little stress on top of it all, and my mood has not been surprising.

I must cancel or postpone therapy this week because of work. After missing the last week because my therapist was on vacation.

I have been thinking about seeking some kind of support from the university when I go this fall. Maybe going without therapy altogether and having meetings with a school therapist. I don't even know if it is realistic to expect that they have one. I don't want special treatment. But, it may be good for someone with the university know what is going on with me.

I'll be glad when the summer is over and I have started classes. When I stop anticipating, and things are really happening.

Swelltide.

What a battle.


I have not been sleeping well, which leaves me irritable, tired and grumpy for most of the day. Then comes the time for me to start thinking about going to bed, and I am not tired. I lay in bed thinking about stupid things that seem profound, large and important at the time. I toss and turn. I keep my girlfriend awake.


I have learned that my mood cycle is roughly two weeks. At the peek of those two weeks, I feel great and sleep without any problem. I am productive and sociable. You know the deal. For most of that time I am on my way down, or on my way up, or otherwise not feeling much like myself. I live for those for days where I am myself.


I guess this would be considered rapid cycling. Though, my periods of mania are not extreme. I have no delusions, though am more confident in myself than usual. I do talk faster, think faster. The classic bipolar symptoms.


A few days ago, at work, I came through the office upset. Frustrated. Talked about some things a little too honestly. My boss. Other people I work with. I sometimes have very little control over how I feel. Things just seem to spill over. I don't think any of these people consider me unstable, but they are cautious now. It is kind of a blessing. I get to tell people how things are and speak honestly. I get to vent and speak my mind. I am approached as a person, instead of being approached as an employee.


Well, that is where I am at. Not sleeping well. Tired. Irritable, but otherwise doing okay.

Swelltide.

Home. Quiet. She is at work and here I am, drinking cheap wine and watching Youtube videos. Clearing out the 5k emails I have.

I like quiet. Gives me the mental room I need to actually clear the air, focus on some things that I've been thinking about.

I like the implications of where life seems to be headed. I don't know if I am gong to like getting there so much. A lot of work. A lot of drive. A lot of focus. I need it all to get where I want to be. I really hope that I am up for it.

I know that everyone has heard bout the theater shooting in Colorado. It worries me. I got bored at work today in did some bipolar research on my cell phone.

My girlfriend said to me, not to long after my diagnosis of bipolar, that she didn't know if she could be with someone who acted on impulse alone and didn't have complete control of their actions. I reassured her. I have never been suicidal. I have never seriously given any thought to taking my own life, or anyone else's. But I have been someone else. I have had moments where I did really stupid things without thinking about them. It is a disturbing idea. That you are not yourself at times.

Deciding to kill strangers is obviously irrational. It screams mental-illness. Unbalance. A broken mind.

Like mine?

Swelltide.

My life is exceedingly lonely, at times. It is easy to feel like people don't care, or don't bother to show that they care. It is easy to feel like the only person on earth going through what I go through. It isn't true, I know, but it feels that way at times.

Here it is, after two in the morning and I am scanning Facebook, inevitably coming across people that I once considered close friends. I search for people that I haven't talked to in years. People that I have had a falling-out with. Everything seems so distant and permanent.

My girlfriend and I were sitting around, talking about my family. I speak now about them in the past-tense. I feel like an outsider everywhere. At work. Here, living so close to my parents. When I am around my siblings. Around 'friends'. I have never been one of those people who have this need or drive to fit in. I have never understood conformist thinking. Not that I have dyed my hair blue and pierced my nose or anything. I am not much of a nonconformist either.

It would be nice to have more than a just one or two close friends around me, that I knew intimately. It is so hard to have an honest conversation with people now. Especially men. And I work in an industry full of bravado and ego. Blegh. How do you make friends, as an adult?

Swelltide.

Therapy today. Kind of a review session. It's been ten visits, from the first session I've had. We talked about how some circumstances have changed. How I feel now compared to how I felt then.

Much better. Not perfect. Not 'healed'. Not euphoric, but better. I can think straight. I can see things closer to reality now. Much of my cognitive shifts have very little to do with my being bipolar, though maybe the medication helps more than I give it credit for.

I do miss the ups. I don't miss the ups and downs, and since I am not currently taking anything for depression alone, my feelings about life can't be attributed to a chemical state in my brain. I am still living with the depression. I still have trouble sleeping sometimes. I still have a hard time getting out of bed sometimes. I still deal with feeling numb occasionally. Despair, occasionally. This to me, is worth the alternative. Being a zombie. Feeling nothing. I get the ups-- much less frequent, and I get the downs, but thanks to therapy I've handled much of this a lot better.

My perspective has completely changed-- about everything. I am not dreading all of the upcoming school work (which is daunting, but not scary) and the relationship that I have with my family has improved somewhat. They may never know about my being bipolar. Even the stress of deciding whether they should know is gone. They may never know, and I don't need to tell them. I don't need much of anything.

Should my job accommodate my school schedule like they claim, then I am set. Time to study. I have the kind of job with plenty of down-time. It is perfect.

I have felt exceedingly level, lately. The calm before the storm, maybe. I will find out. There are so many positive changes coming up. I have oriented life where I want it to go, something I had made many excuses for not doing before.

I still don't know everything about bipolar. I still don't know what to expect in the long-term. I won't know. Bipolar is a different animal for everyone living with it. Which, can be frustrating for someone trying to learn about it. Trying to tame the animal. Some things, like all of the stress that I had carried around for so long, you just have to let go. You have to assume that some things are out of your control.

Swelltide.

Spilled a can of soda yesterday, and immediately extremely angry. I overreacted, clearly. Swore. Stomped around a bit, and proceeded to try to clean up the mess.

She says that I have 'ruin' everything. All of the quiet moments are corrupted by emotional outbursts. My irritability. My energy. I don't know what to do about that.

Swelltide.

Some advice for anyone dealing with a recent diagnosis of bipolar; Go to therapy. Heal. Change negative thought patterns that you have. Bipolar alone is daunting. There is still so much about it that I don't know, or feel like I don't know well. I don't fully understand things that I think, or feel. Not all of the time. Having a major hurt, or void or want in your life will only exaggerate the already erratic behavior and thoughts that causes those of us with bipolar to have. I would recommend therapy though, to anyone.

Therapy today. Told work about school-- my boss and my bosses' boss. Am finished registering for classes, but not without a couple of hiccups. Big day.

Things are moving, which relieves so much stress and worry. School is going to happen-- work be damned. Because of some of things that I've thought about, talked about and worked on, in therapy-- I am in a much better place to try to tackle all of this. Progress comes very slowly sometimes, but I've done everything I can to orient myself. I have a goal. A plan. Now, I just need to follow through, even if that means that I lose out on sleep and haven't much time to dedicate to anything else.

I have come to believe that, the things we want most, if we really want them and focus the thoughts and energy on it that it deserves-- it will happen. Confidence is a strange thing. We can trick ourselves into having it, until we really believe it. I know this.

Those things that we do not get, that we really want, we do not get because on some level we feel like we don't deserve them. It has taken me seven years to get back into school, after many excuses to myself, because I never really felt like I deserved a better education. There are so many more things that work into this, in many ways, but that is really what it all comes down to for me.

I moved around and changed schools a lot as a kid.

It seems utterly ridiculous to talk about the things that happened to you as a kid when you're almost thirty years old. But, the saying that time heals all wounds is completely wrong. The things that stay with us the most-- thought patterns and feelings about ourselves or religious ideology, the view we have about the world itself-- are formed when we're children. I had a lot of hesitation about therapy initially because there were things that I didn't want to think about. I didn't want to give anymore energy to. The childhood stuff.

The things you don't want to think about, acknowledge or deal with are the things we need to give thought to.

Anyway. I moved around a lot as a kid. I never had much time to make lasting friendships. The most time I've spent in one place was a little under four years and there, I went to two different schools. Throw in harassment, bullying and culture-shock. I don't allow people to get close to me. I want it more than anything in the world, but it doesn't happen because I don't believe that I deserve it. The end.

When you know what it is that is really bothering you. What you really want. It becomes much easier to get it. My girlfriend could testify to this. I actually talk about things, now.

Therapy today was great. Weird session, but good. We talked a lot about metaphysical things. Things I believe or don't believe. It put my therapist in a rough spot. She is a lot more new-agey than she lets on (and now, maybe I am too, more than I would like to admit). It could get her in a lot of trouble, as the counseling service is predominately a Christian organization and the therapists must subscribe to certain world views. I would fight for her to stay, if it came to that but I would never want to endanger any one's job.

Swelltide.

Tomorrow may be the big day. I get to tell my work that I am considering school (and by considering, I mean going). Not that I expect them to care, or care beyond being upset that they currently have no one as qualified as myself to do some of the job related tasks.

As of right now, I am registered for biology, chemistry, physics and Latin (because no other foreign language was available.) A LOT. This will not be like my experience with school previously. Not just one or two major courses with a few fluff classes thrown in. I am going to have to be spending a lot of time on school. By the looks of it, every minute that I am awake.

Sparta, what I would not give to have you around right now-- to pester you with questions.

Now, for some small part-time job... I don't know. I've lept into school without having something else lined up, which was kind of stupid. But, I've been looking. I've been applying and there isn't much out there. Maybe I'll go back to delivering pizza for a while.

I want to work as much as I am physically capable of doing, to make things easier for me when all is said and done, but I've been exploring private student loans to augment that money that I've already been awarded.

 There is always the possibility that work may decide to keep me on for a few days a week. This would be nice, but I am not going to hold my breath. Judging by my treatment there, the last seven years, I expect nothing more than, "We can't help you."

I see why people choose not to go this way. To borrow all of this money for school and not be guaranteed a good job when you get out. The prospect is daunting.

No idea what this does for me as far as being able to pay for medication and to go to therapy. Counseling has far surpassed my expectations, but if I have to go without medication for a few years then it is what I need to do. Maybe there is help out there for older, manic-depressive college students. I don't know.

I am intelligent. I think most people with bipolar are. This is going to be extremely difficult. But, is something I need to do.

Swelltide.

Rain day. Well, kind of. Went in this morning, found out that my job has cancelled, and come home. Almost as soon as I get to the house, I discover a voice-mail. "Call me as soon as you get this..."

This happens to me-- because I make myself available. I work hard. I do what I am supposed to, and I don't moan about having to actually work. I didn't get the message. Not today.

Big day tomorrow, and I must trust that it will work out. Today, I will be looking into loans, and spending some of this anxious energy exploring my options.

Swelltide.

Spent most of the day alone. Around people, but alone. Hanging out in my car, waiting for things to happen. Got out, looked around, said a few things, and sat back down. Fell asleep for about ten minutes. I came home to this big, empty place. Now what?

Nothing to do today, but think. Think about childhood stuff, and get pissed off. Think about work stuff and get pissed off. I think about the way my life seems to be going, and I get pissed off. I think about smaller things-- that one of the two people I've told firsthand about being bipolar was my boss and now I occasionally must deal with him being patronizing. "Wouldn't want you to go off into a tizzy." I get pissed off.

So much of what I have to deal with and work through goes so far beyond the one big thing-- bipolar. I don't want to be one of those people who go through life, the whole of their life, carrying around the hurts of childhood. When I went to therapy for the first time, it had nothing to do with any of this stuff. I was happier ignoring it all, and pretending that nothing was bothering me. No. That is not true. I was not happy, at all. It was just easier. It was lazy. Which is why, in a way, for the past few days or weeks, I've been alternating between moments of quiet thought, and being so angry that I would want to put my hand through a wall.

One day, I'm okay. Oblivious. And, the next day I am reliving moments that happened twenty years ago. I don't understand it. Most of it. Why I do this. Why I sometimes don't do this. Why some things have stuck with me in such a way, and some things I've forgotten about or can't completely remember. I don't know what to do with it. According to my therapist, this stuff never really goes away. Fun.

So, if I want a functional life, as someone living with bipolar, I need to heal. I need to move on. I need to either forgive or forget. I don't know that forgiveness is something I am interested in and I obviously can't forget.

So, that is where I'm at, today.

Swelltide.

In the car yesterday and my girlfriend started reading from a therapy module that I was keeping behind my visor.

Bipolar is often triggered by a time of great stress. She asked if I knew what this moment or time was for me.

We moved when I was sixteen, away from the only real friends that I had made up to that point in my life, where I attended a much more urbanized highschool. Superficial. Everything played like a bad reality television show. I ended up in an alternative school, where I took the minimum number of classes to graduate. Where I smoked a lot of pot. I was so angry at my situation, at my parents, at the dumb kids that I went to school with-- I would go days sometimes without saying anything to anyone. I spent two years like this, not talking to anyone. Hiding out, smoking too much and reading books. Sketching. Smoking pot. My friends would say that I always seemed sad.

I thought this was my moment, but after thinking about it, I'm not so sure.

I've had many moments of mania, or near mania, before this. I would go days without attending school regularly. I would scream obsenities at strangers when crossing the street. I would be a total oddball in the hallways at school. Then, it came across as a weird kind of confidence, and I or anyone else, never thought much of it. I would have weeks of eating my lunch alone, talking to no one, or not having anyone to talk to. Zoning out in front of the TV.

So, who knows really? It begs again, the question, what is bipolar and what is normal?

Swelltide.

I've been spending every night, for the last hour or two, in this frenzy. Things I haven't done, things that need to be done, things I've been putting off. It all apparently needs to be in order for me to go to sleep, which I haven't gone much of the last couple of nights.

I am in this weird, mixed-state, upswing. Can't sleep. Irritable. Feeling the need to get things done, even when it isn't necessarily to best time to do them. Like, midnight. Keep thinking about things. Stupid things. Little things.

Written the university several times and can't get in touch with anyone. I need to have academic advising before I can register for classes, which began last month. Feels like it is always this way for me. A wedding soon at the house, and I have a junk car in the yard I am trying to get rid off. Can't get anyone to call me back to schedule an appointment. Looking for things, documents and papers and can't ever find them right off. Have to search for a half of an hour, before I find it somewhere out in the open. In plain sight.

Therapy today was good, but rough. I've been dealing with a lot of anger, frustration. Being manic, or hypomanic or whatever. Thinking about family things. Woe-is-me kind of things. I've moved beyond the not acknowledging, not wanting to deal with stuff to being really pissed off. My therapist noticed right off that I seemed a little distracted and unsettled. Been laying in bed at night not being able to turn my mind off, or relax enough for sleep. I need for something to happen. I need to make some kind of headway on all of the things I've been thinking about, or have been planning to do.

I hate Limbo.

I swear the next person at work who asks me if I'm okay is going to get poked in the eye. I want to ask, "What do you care?"

I am a ball of contradictions. I want to be left alone but want someone to care. I want peace and quiet, but when I have it, all I can do is worry and anticipate. I want to draw, paint, create... but feel uninspired. I want to be able to fall asleep without rolling around in bed for a few hours first. I want for things to happen, but procrastinate. Like, I think, many people with bipolar or depression-- I war with myself, and then feel this immeasurable guilt about all of my shortcomings, and about being mad at myself in the first place.

The good news though, is that I've made some headway in organizing the home. I've been working on some things in my control, for a change. Got some things of the floor, and moved some furniture around. Doing something with all of this energy. But, I've had to deal with being awake at three in the morning, fretting about things and being irritable all of the time.

Swelltide.

Not really tired. Took a nap when I got home. Long and boring day at work.

Met with my psychiatrist-- she seems happy with the level of medication I am on. Surprised that it is working so well, so soon. We've talked about some kind of antidepressant-- but I am not ready. Not her recommendation, but mine.

Depression is much easier for me. I have lived with it in on a daily basis since my teens. I know things to do to drag myself up a little bit. I know how to kick myself in the butt when I need to. Sometimes, it doesn't work. Sometimes it does. Depression doesn't scare me-- bipolar does.

This might change. It probably will change. I don't want to start on a lot of medications when I may be losing my insurance soon. School soon. Maybe changing my job soon. That is why I am not ready. A smaller part of my hesistation is the junkie mentality-- I don't really know life without meloncholy. Living with depression, though it doesn't make life any easier for me, is all that I've known as an adult. It is hard to see things any other way.

Tonight, I feel isolated. I feel shut-off from the world.

I have been thinking about my inability to form real bonds with people the last couple of days. I meet people, get invited out. To parties, to the bars, to a cook-out-- whatever. I decline. This happens until they give up. I don't disclose anything about myself to others. Other than my girlfriend-- and some things that she knows about me, took me years to tell her. I don't find joy in people anymore.

I don't know what to do with this-- elitism, fear of vulnerability, anxiety. I don't know how to fix it. We talk about it a lot in therapy, but it all has a tendacy to come full circle.