Why am I so tired?

Seriously? My friend stopped by to hang out and chat for a little while and it was exhausting. I love hanging out with her. I love talking with her. She's my best friend. But after about 45 minutes I was ready for her to go. Not because I didn't want her company - but because I was getting exhausted. I felt overwhelmed just talking with her.

What. The actual. Fuck.

This is stupid. It's so damn stupid. Talking to a friend should not be exhausting.

But it was.

I really hate me right now.

I hate it when I can't lie to myself . . .

I'm sitting on the couch watching the Broncos and Patriots game (going for the Broncos, btw - they're my team) and said to myself, self, you know what you should do right now? You should write.

And so I am.

I had a disturbing revelation yesterday while having lunch at a friend's house. These friends are pretty good friends, just ones that hubs and I don't see too often (they live over an hour away). We can share anything with them - we're comfortable like that. And so I shared about my last 3 months with them, as they only knew the bare basics.

This is where I had my disturbing revelation.

I was sick. Sick. Recounting my story, watching the expressions on their faces - expressions of mild shock, pity, and almost disbelief . . . It was difficult. It was eye opening. They saw the humor in my mania. They could joke about it which made me more comfortable. They asked questions. But I realized just how sick I truly was.

Talking about it takes away my ability to lie to myself about it. See, I like to tell myself that the last 3 months weren't as bad as they were. That I wasn't really that sick. When I say it out loud, all that goes away. I lose that lie. And losing that lie scares me a little.

I also realized this: I'm still sick.

We spent 5 hours at our friend's house and I left feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted. Completely drained and exhausted. Which forces me to consider the fact that I'm not recovered yet. Which scares me a little.

I was so sick I lost touch with reality - I was delusional. I was so sick I was suicidal.

And I'm not better yet. Yesterday made me realize how fragile I still am. How much my illness impacts my friends and family. And how quickly things can change.

And it makes me wonder how I'm going to do back at work. I go back the 27th. One week. If five hours with friends exhausts me, how is 12 hours at work at a busy birth center going to affect me?

I'm worried and a little bit scared.

Sunday

I'm drained right now. Utterly, emotionally drained. Yesterday was exceedingly hard mood wise. I was up and down and everywhere in between. And by "up, down and in between" I mean I was hypo for about an hour, numb for a few, depressed and crying, followed by more numbness, followed by depressed and crying. And angry and irritable the whole time.

Sounds fun, yeah?

So here's the thing - I'm pretty sure I'm rapid cycling. I'm pretty sure I have a bipolar chemical swing going on here. That this is a bipolar issue. Not a character issue. Not a "me" issue. I think my chemistry is a little outta whack and I'm along for the ride.

Which is never a fun ride people - this is the roller coaster from hell operated by the love child of Richard Simmons and the devil.

I mean look at that. Fuuuuuuuuuck. That's just not fair.

But I digress.

I tried to talk with J last night about this. I've been trying to hide my swings from him, from everyone because I'm so worried and convinced that everyone is going to think that I'm doing this to myself. That I'm self-sabotaging again. I'm all but paranoid about this. 

Let's be honest: I'm so paranoid about this that I've become hypervigilant of everything I'm feeling or thinking. However, even though I'm hypervigilant, I think I've been doing well at tempering that with letting go and not catastrophizing. Which is hard for me. Because I'm an idiot. 

So I've been writing in my mood journal, making note of my mood shifts, trying to find a theme or pattern or trigger. I have been thinking about this. Quite a bit. It's hard not to when your mind is constantly racing, constantly interjecting thoughts (it's gone back to the you're-a-failure-because-you're-not-better-and-everyone-would-be-happier-without-your-crazy-ass-around type of thoughts. The not good thoughts). It's hard not to when you're hypomanic and you have to be aware of where you are and what you're feeling and thinking so that you don't completely act out or act inappropriately or say inappropriate things. I mean, I will literally puke up some obscene line of nonsense and not even realize what I've said until I get nasty looks.

So I have to be aware. I have to think about my moods. 

But I don't have to overanalyze - one of my favorite pastimes. One that I've mastered expertly. A flawed coping mechanism that I rely way too heavily on. I've spent my entire life coddling this ability and fuck you I'm going to use it!

I shouldn't though.

J pointed out the whole "overanalyzing" thing to me. I got defensive and bitchy. I think all I am lately is defensive and bitchy and snippy and miserable to be around (oops - negative thinking there - another flawed coping mechanism. I seem to be full of those!). But I started thinking . . . maybe I am overanalyzing myself right now. I mean, I'm riding these emotional ups and downs, trying to stay in the moment, not catastrophize, and move on. And, I am doing that. But maybe not as well as I think I am. 

Maybe I'm overanalyzing a little.

Something else - the last couple of days where I've had some really bad lows (most notably yesterday), I find it difficult to bring myself back up. It really is easier for me to stay there because I know how to do that. I know how to feel like shit. I often think I deserve to feel that way.

Which I don't.

But it's easier to stay down than spend a ton of energy to pull myself back up again. So I've got that going against me. I'm starting to overanalyze and I'm finding it easier to completely give in to my lows. Not a great combo. But something I can change.

Let's do a quick recap: I'm rapid cycling. I'm having true bipolar controlled mood swings. I'm not doing as well as I could managing them thanks to flawed coping mechanisms. But I can change those coping mechanisms.

Which leads us to my next problem. How do I change those coping mechanisms? I've started that process. Working through ACOA and codependency. Reading the books, answering the questions, discussing with M. And that's awesome, right?

Right?

It is, if that wasn't the probable trigger of this current rapid cycling episode.

Wait, what?

Talking about ACOA and my alcoholic mom and codependency is VERY difficult. It's VERY emotionally taxing. It's distressing. So much so I've had some anxiety coupled with it. So much so I've had some nightmares about it. So much so that I want to blaze through everything and not even touch it at the same time. 

Blaze through it?

Yes. A handy nugget of info my best friend L gave to me last night (her and J are just full of these goddamned nuggets of wisdom that I should be figuring out on my own and I both hate them and love them for that). 

I'm diving headfirst, blindly, into a sea of nasty emotionally charged shit. I'm not even thinking - I'm just doing. I need to work through this so let's fucking do this! Baby steps need not apply. And, as L pointed out, I've built this shit up over the last 35 years, so how the hell am I going to work through it in a few weeks??

She also pointed out that I'm an idiot. A fact we already know, L. Bring something new to the table!

Recap time again:

1. I have bipolar disorder. Having bipolar disorder makes it difficult to regulate moods. When you're bipolar it's more difficult to cope with everyday issues. This makes it even more difficult to cope with anything that goes above and beyond this. Both bad and good.

2. I dove in head first trying to work through the pain and grief and anger and rage that took me a lifetime to acquire. I dove in expecting to blast through this in a matter of a few therapy sessions and I got in over my head. Now I'm drowning in the muck.

3. This (most likely) triggered my current rapid cycling episode. 

So now I'm rapid cycling. I'm bipolar and by nature have a difficult time coping with things. I'm trapped in the thick sludge that is my childhood and, even though I'm drowning, I'm still insisting that I can go deeper, faster. 

Is it any wonder my moods are everywhere? Is it any wonder that I'm having issues coping? Is it any wonder that I'm bitchy and snippy and sad and unstable? I'm denying everything above because it's easier to. It's more convenient to. I'm at that ledge where I can exercise all of my negative coping mechanisms, ignore logic, buck any help offered, and plummet. 

Or, I can take a step back, slow down, be kind to myself. I can allow myself to take breaks. I can take some pressure off of myself. I can take what I've learned so far and actually use it. I can listen to, and use J and L's advice without getting defensive and angry - despite what my sick brain thinks, they're actually not out to get me. 

That's the hard part though. Going against 35 years of flawed coping and thinking. And doing that while doing battle with my sick brain. 

But I can. I have people just as, or more, stubborn than me on my side.