I know it has been forever that I have posted anything to this blog. I have been busy trying to build a healthy romantic relationship as opposed to the most recent one that is discussed in some detail in this blog. Mostly, I have been finding myself asking “why?” a lot recently. Why would anyone want to love a person who has to hide the severity of her illness from everyone so she won’t get hospitalized again? Why was it me that was predisposed to the genes the scientific world believes helps cause manic depression? Why wasn’t it my sister? I realize that is horribly mean and somewhat despicable, but it is how I feel.
I feel cheated. I feel betrayed by nature. I feel angry that I have to wake up in the mornings crying if it is a bad day, and bored out of mind if it is a good one. I hate that I have to take anti-psychotic medication to just keep me in mixed-episode world. Who knows what that stuff is doing to me? I hate mixed-episode world where I am manically depressed (or depressively manic) all the time. But, I guess it achieves some sort of “stability.”
I ask if I am ever going to achieve recovery, or anything more than a partial remission of symptoms. It seems as if, just when things in my weird little world are starting to appear normal, I have to wake up one morning and find the whole normalcy thing was a malicious figment of my imagination. I am afraid to lose this new (1 year old) relationship by being too clingy, too needy, too moody, too weird, too whatever makes people run from me as if I have rabies or some other contagious disease. I hate this life. While I know that sounds ungrateful to those people who do not struggle with mood disorders, it isn’t really. I would just prefer a different one because I really hate the having to struggle to appear normal. I hate the fact that my eyes no longer light up when I smile. I hate the damage I have caused people. I hate the damage I have caused myself. I hate the fact that if you really look at me, you see someone who is haunted by her own mind. I just really wish this wasn’t my life. It was not the way it was supposed to work out.