You’ve heard the Spoon Theory, right? We all get a certain number of spoons per day. Spoons equal energy, or spoons equal actions. Once you use up your spoons, you’re done for the day. You can’t do anything else. And theoretically us bipolar types don’t get so many spoons (unless we’re manic, then there’s the dilemma of unlimited spoons). So I totally get this and I ascribe to this and I consider myself to have very few spoons at my disposal. SIDE NOTE: Why spoons? Why not forks? Or tokens? Gold coins? I have no fucking idea. I didn’t make this shit up. I’ve only heard of it. Some fuck said spoons so I’m going with it. END SIDE NOTE. As I was saying, I don’t feel like I’m bursting with spoons. I have a helluva time just getting up and showering, most days, let alone doing laundry or, God forbid, COOKING A MEAL!! That would almost require hypomania for me. But! Then I get into crisis mode like I’m in now, with Dad in the hospital, and my Mom is sick with the cold that Dad had that turned into pneumonia. All of this requires me to rise above the Spoon Theory. And ya know what I call it when I can do wayyyyy more than I would ever think that I could? A State of Grace. That’s all I can think of! It’s like the Universe, or the spoon giver, or whatever or whomever the fuck, said this chick needs to function on a higher level right now. Let’s throw out every belief she has about how she thinks she can function, and give her a reprieve! Because I am functioning at a level I could not have previously imagined. I am there for my Dad and Mom. I am driving all over creation, seeing my Mom, seeing my Dad, hanging in the hospital for hours, being in the moment, talking to my Dad, and accepting life as it is right now. Who is this person? This is not me! This is some kind of gift! I am supremely grateful for this time with my Dad. Yes, when I get home, I’m tired, and I feel depleted, but in the moments that I’m meant to be of service to my family, I am able to do that, to help, to be present, to feed my Dad, get a nurse, whatever, with total serenity. And no, I am absolutely not manic. So what this tells me, is that theories like the Spoon Theory may have their place, but there are times when we can rise above our illness. Maybe this will last for a few days, or maybe it will stretch for a few weeks, but for however long, I’m grateful to be the strong one for someone else, for a change. And when I get in that car, and I feel like I just can’t do it, I remind myself that I am stronger than I think I am, and I can do more than I know. And then I go.
Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar Coping, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Hope, Humor, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader, The Spoon Theory