The darkness sets my brain on fire
Thoughts are a flash
Worries roam the room
Perseveration crowds my dreams
Clock ticks in the background
Time lost in the present
Shadows prey upon my space
No candle bright enough
To carry me home
Settle these fears
Eyes close to madness
Ricocheting between my ears
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.