Bipolars of the world, unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains!

I think I am going to attend a bipolar support group meeting on Wednesday. I'm kind of nervous.

One day a few years back I was in Barnes and Noble and the title of a book caught my eye: "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway." I didn't look at the book because as a general rule I try to stay away from the self-help section; I feel like most of it is a bunch of bollocks written by charlatans trying to make a buck off people who are struggling. But I did like that title. Maybe I'll give it a shot.

Song in my head today:

Am I Going To Keep Up With This Blogging Shit Or What?

I'll be straight: I had a bad reaction to a new medication I was tried on and was kind of out of commission for a bit. But I'm pulling myself out of the hole and trying to ease back into the game. I had actually completely forgotten about my little burgeoning blog, but thought of it today. I was looking at a bunch of tumblrs I like and I thought to myself, "I have a voice too! There is a mother fucking light inside me that needs to shine too!!!!"

Today I was thinking that instead of wasting time, energy, and resources on this horse shit "obesity epidemic" - maybe we should take some time to address a more serious issue, the fucking self-loathing epidemic. It hits minoritized and demonized populations the hardest, but no one is immune, not even the default person (straight white dudes, I know you feel it too). I have some more thoughts on this that I will get into those on a future post (maybe), but I just wanted to put this out there, just in terms of my own experience: There is nothing I have done in my life to deserve the level of hatred I have for myself. Like anyone, I have a heap of things I've done that I'm not proud of. But, I mean, do I strangle cats in my spare time? Do I punch babies in the face? Have I killed anyone? (Just to be clear: no.) It seems that the great sins I have committed are as follows:

• I have consumed more calories on an average day than my body burns.
• I have cystic acne and scaring on my face.
• I have scars on my arms and legs from a period when I was very sick and hurt myself.
• I'm bipolar.

There is no moral component to any of this, at all. And yet I berate and belittle and isolate myself because I feel as if no one could love someone so ... all of the above. It's got to stop, but I hardly know where to begin. I've had these feelings for quite some time; they won't go away overnight. I think I have taken a strong first step in giving up dieting. I'm trying to be comfortable in my own skin but it's hard. I'm going to keep reading the blogs of people who don't hate themselves (yay Fat Acceptance!) and hopefully some of it will rub off on me.

Sometimes, when I get sad, or feel alone with the above bulleted list, I imagine that "Hey Jude" was written especially for me. Just for me. Thanks Paul.