Moment to moment

It's how I made it through the day today. Moment to moment. I tried not to think ahead. I tried not to look back. I tried to stay in the moment. And for the most part, it worked. I felt okay this morning. Not great - but okay. Withdrawn - but okay. Turned out I was in the nursery with my best friend - very fantastic. Mood be damned I was going to have a good day! Until I didn't.

It started by reading an article on bipolar disorder from the BP magazine. I nearly burst into tears. I made it to the back room where I cried the ugly cry. You know, the one where snot flies and you're a mess afterwards. Yeah, that cry. But I pulled myself together, cleaned myself up (see the comment about snot flying), and went back out to the nursery. I asked L if I looked okay and she jokingly said no. Which I knew. But I started crying again. Right there. In front of people. So L did what any good friend would do - she grabbed my ass and told me how firm it was. All I could do was laugh. Laugh and laugh. My tears became the tears of laughter. How can you continue crying when your bestie does that? One of the many reasons I love L (if I was gay, she'd totally be mine).

So I stayed in the moment. That moment of laughter. That moment of fun, happiness, and joy. I coddled it, nurtured it, encouraged it to grow and bloom. And bloom it did. I sailed for a few hours, the sorrow of my breakdown all but forgotten. I was proud of myself. I was living in the moment.

 In the afternoon, and into the evening, my mood changed again. Back was the sorrow, my ever eager companion. Sadly, the sorrow won out for awhile. It seems to have a way of taking control and crushing the hope that had previously bloomed. It's an asshole like that. And I stayed in that moment. It needed to be acknowledged. And acknowledge I did. I tipped my hat at sorrow and politely told it to fuck off. But, being the asshole that sorrow and depression can be, it did not fuck off. Rather, it hung on, though its grip was loosened.

Coming home, I still had the remnants of that sorrow. It followed me as it always does. It's not bad right now, not overwhelming. But . . .it's there. And I don't think it's going anywhere. Even when I don't have the blatant depression, even when I'm laughing, I still feel empty. A hollow husk filled with nothing but dust. And I think that's one of the hardest feelings to deal with. There's never that feeling of satisfaction or contentment. It's as if all I'm doing is going through the motions. I'm surviving, but I'm not living. I often wonder if other people feel this way. From what I've read, other people with bipolar disorder or depression feel this way too. Which is a little validation. But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. I like knowing I'm not the only one . . .but now lets get rid of these feelings!

In time, hopefully I will. Today was today, and tomorrow is a new day. A day to start fresh, and try it again. As always, I plug along, hoping for the best, and dealing with the worst.