For two days, I was hypomanic, full of energy, full of piss and vinegar, full of life. Seven hours of sleep in two days, three books read, hair dyed, nails painted. I even wore a skirt and hose yesterday. Because I felt good and alive and confident.
Last night, the lack of sleep finally caught up with me and I slept til 8 am this morning.
I am not manic today. I am functioning and I am not in the gutter, but I can feel it coming. Seeping into my bones, in the bone marrow, the darkness that follows feeling so amazing, that transforms me from “I am woman, hear me roar” into “just kill now and leave me the fuck alone ‘cos I don’t want to live in this cess pool anymore.”
I haven’t hit bottom yet. And of course, there’s a (remote) possibility I might not. But one thing about bipolar two, and cyclothymia especially, is that the cycles are very regular, very predictable. Up high for a day or two…Slip down…further down…And then splat.
All the swirling happy productive thoughts are gone. Replaced with a weary “fuck this” lethargy. I do not feel confident or happy or energetic. I feel drained and overwhelmed.
I had 5 really good days with my kid, when she was with me 24-7 and we got along fine and she minded me well. I went to the shop for two days so she was with my mom, and for two days now, she has been fussy, whiny, mouthy, throwing fits…I don’t think it following her being around my mother is a coincidence. And I hate it, because it is making me really pissy. I have been grumpy, impatient, and feeling the irritation and anger bubbling beneath my skin, trying to rise up from my throat like lava erupting from a volcano. I am keeping it in check, just barely. But it really pisses me off to no end that I had 5 days with my kid and everything was fine, she minded very well, and now it has all been undone and she won’t listen to a word I say. And since I am feeling like the pms monster is rearing its ugly head, I have hormones on top of this irritation and anger. It makes me uncomfortable to have all that boiling inside of me. I don’t like it, I don’t embrace it, I try to combat it. But it’s there and it’s a constant battle to stay in control instead of letting it gallop away with me.
Yesterday the shop kept hopping with phone calls and people popping in so R didn’t have a lot of room to annoy me. Oh, sure, he did a few times, but I can’t even remember what he did today, so that says it all. It was just one of those bipolar traits where one day I am annoyed with certain things, then two days later, the same things happen and I feel nothing.
He wasn’t home most of last night but I still went over so Spook could play with his granddaughter and I had a nice chat about many things with his wife. She’s kind of a mixed bag. On one hand, there’s something about her that rubs me the wrong way. It has nothing to do with me being the ex, though, she’s just more elitist than I am comfortable with, a little too judgmental, little too controlling. But on the other hand, without him there and them bickering, it was nice to talk to her. She at least pays attention and makes an effort to interact. So…She makes me a little uneasy, which could be my own stupid issues, but at the same time, I am starting to see she isn’t the devil. The devil mix seems to be the two of them together, which I apparently need to avoid.
Today…I am not feeling like doing anything, not even reading. I love Robin Cook novels but the one I have right now is not all that enthralling. Not his best, at all. It seems to be moving too slow compared to his usual. Or it could be that I am cycling into the distraction portion of the bipolar ride. I am not all that into watching tv shows or movies. I don’t want to clean, I did the bare minimum but I borrowed a carpet shampooer and really need to do that tonight but the will to move seems to be missing in action.
And therein lies the true torment of bipolar. To feel so good one day, then to feel so down or unfocused or lethargic the next. It’s like a balloon being inflated, only to suddenly pop rather than gradually lose air and deflate. Bipiolar does not know subtlety. It is a series of extremes that are constantly in play. It scrambles your brain, makes you incapable of ever getting your equilibrium on track.
All I wanna do is stare off into space and listen to the clock tick until I can go curl up in bed and sleep.
I hate this so much.
Nothing bad has happened today. The anxiety hasn’t been that bad. Yesterday wasn’t traumatic in any way. There is no reason for me to feel this way, at all. Yet, I do.
And the harder I try to fight it and get in a different headspace, the more despondent I feel.
So I guess it’s just one of those times where I have to accept the way I feel and ride it out, like a bad storm, waiting for it to end and the weather to morph back to normal.
Bipolar is a vortex of suck.