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.

I might need to back off the just diagnosed with bipolar, week-long freak out. I think the girlfriend is tiring of my being on the computer all the time. She still has a lot of questions, and some that I don't have answers to still. Dealing with this, all of the time, is only keeping me distant. I can't spend hours anymore, researching and writing. Bitching and moaning. Reaching out to others on forums, but not always to her.

I don't want to be a burden! I've always had the problem of not being able to ask for help. I don't like being vulnerable. I don't like needing anything from someone else. I need to get over it. I need to accept that I am a nut-- no more crazy than anyone else-- and move on.

Everyone is dealing with something.

I had a conversation yesterday, or the day before, at work-- where a coworker claimed that he carried no issues from childhood, had no feelings of inequity or inferiority, didn't deal with anger or hurt. Nothing that he's been dealing with in life. His parents divorcing? Nope. Being a single father and living in a garage? Nope. Having to rely on mom and dad to help pay bills? Nope. He's full of it.

Everyone has something. Rough childhood. Drugs. Money problems. Dead parents or siblings. Feeling isolated, or alone. Something.

This bipolar thing. This elephant in the room. What makes it so special?! Granted, I have a ton of other things I'm dealing with also. Some things related to biploar, but what makes manic depression so big for me? Why am I having a hard time accepting the fact that I am bipolar, and just moving on? I could easily pop a couple of pills every day, go to my therapy once a week, and just carry on. I don't understand what is making this so much bigger than any of the other things I've had to deal with in my life...

I have hives, bumps or something on my leg. Spent some time looking up Stevens Johnson syndrome on the internet-- and freaked out. The girlfriend found the first couple of rash symptoms and I just ran with it. Spent some time this morning continuing to scare myself. The psychiatrist said to keep an eye out and stop taking the medication if anything like this pops up. Pictures of people with their skin falling off, their mouth full of sores, eyes swollen shut. Blegh. If it weren't Sunday, I would be on the phone with the doctor right now.

Anyway. Anyway, I'll clean and organize the house today.Wash some dishes. Unpack some boxes. Been over a week since we moved in, and still things in piles-- waiting to be taken care of. Spend some time with the girl when she gets home and, for one night, pretend that there isn't anything wrong. I need a break from it as much as she does.