It's really hard being bipolar. Well, duh.
But, really. It just plain sucks. I can't control my moods even when I think they are in my fist. Always, something else is coming around the corner. Some new undiscovered territory that hasn't yet screwed with me.
I'm so sick of this. I'm feeling so extraordinarily pessimistic. I'm not a pessimistic person. It feels as though nothing is working. I'm not working. I realize that I am taking a nose dive. For the moment. Maybe I'll be ok in an hour. Or maybe I'll be irritable like whoa... Maybe I'll just be sleeping. Who knows? Not me.
The experience of having this little deviation and having difficulty treating the symptoms effectively seems, in a way, as thouyh one is having ones brain slowly digested. I can feel mine rotting away. That whole kindling theory? Not a theory. It happens. Oh hell yes. And all the meds just can't keep up. So meds or no, my brain is being eaten by this tag along monster.
I have such a hard time explaining bipolar to people. I mean really explaining it. Beyond the mania vs depression text book stuff.
It's just... crap. It's all crap.
If I don't keep trying to write about it, I think I'm going to either explode or shrivel up.
That's pretty typical.