Day after day I get out of bed, reluctantly. Sometimes requested by my husband as the day begins to carry on without me. But…eventually I just go back to bed. Shades drawn. Hiding under the covers. Heavy. Isolating. Bipolar depression….fuck you!
Balance. The magic word that is missing in my life. Perhaps today I wouldn’t have lost my cool in my supervisors office. Statements like I’m working my ass off w nothing to show for it. Coworkers probably think I suck at my job as project manager as all of them have problems and are in delay. All of course accompanied by tears.
I push myself to the brink to satisfy the inner critic that is never satisfied. I put everything I got into my job. I feel like it’s all I got. It’s the only mechanism I still have that shows I have worth and a purpose in this world. When that goes south, it affects me deeply. All the friends have disappeared as I battle this fucking disease. No return phone calls. Not able to follow thru on plans has burnt them out or whatever.
It’s all black and white in my world. I’m a good worker or I’m not. I care tremendously about my job and my performance. My integrity. My reputation.
I used to play tennis, competitively until a devastating episode came along and knocked me out of the game. I used to go trail running til a manc episode on the trail landed me in the ER. A Saturday morning ritual romping through nature no longer calls to me. I am scared. It’s my responsibility to replace these activities. To help give my life balance. I just don’t do it. I don’t know why.
Yesterday I was flying high at work. Telling jokes, pulling pranks. My husband remarked today that last night I was moving fast and talking fast. I’ve had 3 nights of insomnia that probably perpetuated my emotional outburst in my supervisors office. I don’t want to stop giving it my all at work, striving to be the best worker I can be, producing quality work. That’s who I am. But it’s also dangerous for me to just throw myself aWay from 9-5 and not respect the bipolar symptoms that creep up.
I don’t know where to start. I just know it would better my life to have balance. When I crawl out of this dark hole I fell Into today, I’ll figure something out.
It’s not uncommon, to be afraid. In certain circumstances it is certainly warranted. It’s just that when I try to settle down at night, get cozy under the covers, take a few deep breaths, the wolf seems to come alive. I flip from side to side. Pull the covers up and down. Sometimes I even get up and pop another sleeping medication. The wolf waits my restlessness out. He pounces once again as I try to sink into the mattress.
Any and every scenario I had with a person at my job will get played and replayed. Any and every scenario I can think of for tomorrow or for two weeks out will get played and replayed. I can get lost in it. For example, I skipped therapy last night. Normally I have it every 2 weeks but yesterday I was just not interested in talking. So, obviously in 2 more weeks I would be scheduled to see her. I was hosting a full on tirade in my mind. How I was going to burst into her office and have oh so many rational things to say leaning toward opting out of therapy. I shake my head and yell stop. Turn over and fix the covers again. The movie reel spins and I’m thrown into yesterday when I was semi laughing about a very stressful situation I’m facing. Trying to make light of it I made a joke of channeling my boss, which to me is a good thing. Yet, as it plays and replays, I’m uncertain my choice of words was understood. I’m uncertain that I didn’t, quite accidentally, drenched in sarcasm, insult her. Did anyone notice? Did they talk about me and my betrayal of my boss when I left the room? I scan my mind for faces. Reactions. My mind churns and churns. The clock turns and turns. The wolf paces. On and on it goes.