What To Do When the Fog Lifts For a Week and Then an Agitated Cycle Begins

I have no fucking idea.

One day, I wake up, and just like that (picture me snapping my fingers), I feel ok. I feel functional. 10 days later and I'm agitated, irritable, eating in ways that are out of control, unable to tolerate being around people, feeling fatigued and hopeless and all of the same old same old. It hurts to have a period of relative contentment and then have it ripped away just as you were beginning to feel somewhat normal.

I'm so tired of all this.

Dear Brain,

Thanks a pantsful.

Love,
Bea

P.S. - I am trying to stay positive and I don't want to be mean to you, Brain, but you're making it very difficult.

What To Do When the Fog Lifts

Over the past week the fog has lifted somewhat for me. When this happens, I want to take advantage of the opportunity, because I just never know how long it will last. I'm not bursting with joy mind you, but I feel more functional, less fatigue, less hopelessness, and less of a need to isolate myself from others.

I feel like if I can create some positive routines and try to stick with them as long as possible, perhaps I can stave off another depressed or agitated cycle for as long as possible. I'm a rapid-cycler so there's a certain inevitability of losing my grip, but while this time is here I want to make the most of it. And maybe when the next cycle comes I can try to hold on to some of the routines I create now, and keeping that structure and doing things that make me feel good will make the cycle shorter. This is something I've discussed with my therapist, and have had a few successes with it, and hope to have more over time.

I am usually able to complete a few self-care rituals daily, regardless of cycle, which I think I've mentioned: washing face 2x/day and using acne products, brush 3x/day, floss 1x/day, eat a nutritious breakfast, meditate, take all meds, keep all psych appointments, keep mood journal, keep sleep as regular as possible. It took a long time to be able to hold on to these things, but now they're MINE. I own them and they're a part of my life. This is a source of pride for me.

I have a harder time with keeping a regular exercise regimen, preparing and eating healthy lunches and dinners, avoiding binges, maintaining some semblance of a social life, and avoiding vicious inner monologues. These are the things that I can't seem to get a grip on. I have started on these tasks over the past few days and am trying to move forward with my mission of kindness to self as best I can. The more time I spend being kind to myself cumulatively, it has to add up to a better quality of life, I have to believe that.

I am going to try to write more on this blog while I have this period of greater clarity. Then maybe when I start another cycle I can look back and feel hopeful. It's hard to know when you're in a depressive state that you will ever NOT feel that way again. If I write about it, that will be tangible proof - I WILL see the light of day again. It's not a matter of if, but when, and I just need to hold on until that day comes.

I'd like to come out and play, get out into the real world. I still feel scared though, despite being in a better place I still feel scared. Working on my confidence is another part of being kind to myself, but I honestly have no idea how to even begin doing that. I need someone to sing this song outside my window.

The Dream is Over

I had a dream that there would be a medication that would help me to be like other people. To feel stable. To enjoy things. To not fantasize about harming myself. For one month of my life, I had that, with Pristiq, but it pushed me over the edge into a manic state. I can't take antidepressants because they don't work, and Lamictal hasn't worked either. I always said to my therapist that I didn't expect medication to be a panacea for all my problems. Well, I lied to her and I lied to myself. And now I have to come to terms with the fact that my miracle drug doesn't exist.

My life is mine and I'm the one who's going to have to turn things around. I don't know how. I know I don't want to go to school for social work, but I can't think of anything else to do and I can't bear the idea of another year of just doing nothing. I can't figure out a path.

I have to have control over my mind. I have to be in charge of my fate. I have to conquer my fears. Yet I am quivering in the corner, and have been my whole life.

I've been weeping on and off all day for various reasons, things on tv or things that upset me at work or thinking of the futility of my career prospects. But I think the tears are really all about the fact that the dream is over.

The dream is over. The dream is over. The dream is over. Time to wake up. The dream is over.

Interesting Link

Found a worthwhile article, topic is "How to Be Kind to Yourself." The whole website seems interesting, I will check it out further when I am less zonked on xanax.

Favorite quote: "The past is dust." I almost want to get that tattooed right over my scars.

An old favorite, to bid you goodnight:

Buddha, You Are the Bomb

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”

Another Stream

Had an interesting though on bipolar today. I equated it with being a bully in therapy. Later, I thought to myself, the only way to defeat a bully is to stand up to him. So, this evening I had a self-deprecatory thought, and I said, "Shut the fuck up. I am tired of your shit. Just shut your God damn mouth." It actually worked. Maybe anthropomorphizing bipolar could be helpful, will try it out. Obviously this is a big bitch who will often defeat me, but it's important that I stand up for myself when these cruel thoughts come to me. My therapist says part of that is actually BELIEVING that I am not worthless, etc, so I can say that aloud and make an affirmation of it whenever negative thoughts come along. That will be a challenge, to say the least.

Bipolar disorder is one entity that I do not have to be kind to. Since I am something of a church mouse in real life, I kind of am in love with the idea of being verbally abusive to my negative thoughts, or as I like to call it, my nasty bitchassery to myself.

One for the road:

So Alone, So Afraid

Lately I am afraid to be alone at night. Friday I had a day where I called in sick, couldn't get out of bed, was immobilized. Since then I have this dread, this knot in my stomach, as the night approaches and I know I am going to be left alone with my horribly cruel thoughts. I've read a lot of posts on other sites with similar themes. I hope we are all able to come out from under the dark cloud somehow.