I’m in my roller coaster phase. This usually constitutes a variety of symptoms and mood swings for all around me to enjoy. I don’t notice the changes until I look into my husband’s eyes and see the pain. Fuck, I’m doing it again. When will this never ending cavalcade of bullshit end?
My sleep schedule is so far off the rails, it becomes too late to take my medication some days. My nerves continue to rattle. I’m overreacting at just about everything – and even I think I’m going overboard. I can feel my “ascending” manic inner monologue – sarcastic, cynical, and sometimes condescending – become outer monologue. My actual thoughts are always 10 seconds too late, always asking why the fuck would you say that? How in the world was that necessary?
I’m isolating by pushing everyone away. It’s the same as locking myself in my room and crying myself to sleep. I don’t know who or what to blame anymore: me or the disease. It’s so easy to say, “my disease made me this way,” rather than admitting actual responsibility for my inability to fully allow anyone close to me inside my twisted bubble.
But again I have no idea why I respond or behave the way I do. This leads me to believe it’s chemical further triggered by environmental factors.
I really hope I don’t read this tomorrow and go: what the fuck was I on?!
8 more days until I go back to therapy.
I took my meds today.
I talk to my husband about what I’m feeling when he sleeps. It’s the easiest time for me; I think a part of him can hear me and maybe empathize with my pain.
I am trying really hard to keep my life together; I really am this time.