Today was . . .annoying. To say the least. Which I think is probably true of every day with bipolar disorder, but anyway. I was just. . .down again. Not terribly depressed, no, but not myself. Not happy. Not enjoying anything. I was irritable and cranky. All I wanted to do was paint but I had other things I needed to do. The necessities of life, if that's what you want to call it.
I went to the gym of course, and probably pushed myself too hard. I was going to get an oil change but the shop wouldn't have my truck done in time for me to go to a meeting. So that got scratched. And my meeting. Ugh. It lasted way longer than it was supposed to. And involved lots of petty bickering between coworkers. I sat, mostly quiet, only rarely offering my two cents. I'm often overlooked anyway.
So I didn't have much time to paint. I did the background for my next two, and let them dry while I picked up my son from school and then ran a couple of errands (I paint almost exclusively in watercolors). My kiddo went outside to play with his friend which gave me an hour of uninterrupted paint time. When he came in, we played a little, I made him dinner, and he played with his army men while I finished one of my paintings (I'll share it after I get pictures).
And even though I painted, and finished a painting, I was restless and unsatisfied. Unhappy and frustrated. Down and withdrawn. I stared off into space for awhile, unable to focus on anything. Not that I wanted to. I wanted to disappear. And I still do. To have several days with nothing and no one around. To do my own thing and not worry about responsibility. To workout or paint or read or sew or sleep or stare at the wall with no interruptions, no judgement, no expectations. Will that help me feel better? I have no idea. Maybe it will only isolate me further. . .
I work tomorrow and I'm not looking forward to it. One, I know it's been busy. Two, I'm charge in the nursery. Three, I'm not working with whom I would like to work with. And four, it means I have to interact with people. I'm not in the mood to interact with people. Maybe that will change tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day, a fresh start, so it may very well be alright. I'll assume it will be alright. Everything will be alright.
And maybe the more I tell myself that, the more I'll believe it. And the more I believe it, the more likely it will come true. And if it comes true, then I've solved the problem of bipolar disorder and unhappiness, and other mental illnesses. There's no sarcasm there, by the way. None at all. I've told myself that I believe that.
Anyway, my moods are being a fickle bitch on the rag who has seemingly run out of chocolate. Somebody get this bitch some chocolate! STAT! I know we're still working on my meds and that maybe - just maybe - we'll get the dosing right and it will help. And that maybe - maybe - things will fall into place and I'll feel normal again. Crazier things have happened.
Now, does anyone have any chocolate?
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