a day in the life.

when I am asked what it is like to function, to thrive, with a laundry list of mental health variances all I can ever say is that you’d have to be me for a day. so here’s my best attempt at making that pretty…

 

sunday: I wanted to tell the impatient boy making lattes to be gentle with me. because I couldn’t very well tell this stranger about the tears in my eyes on a sunday morning when I haven’t been home in days and there isn’t anyone asking how my heart is. I almost left line twice. he pegs me indecisive and straightens the menus, suggesting I try harder, before I stutter and point to the third option without reading it. even though she isn’t there to remind me, I ask for almond milk because I can’t very well ask the stranger for a kiss on the forehead instead, even when I know that’s all it takes to soothe me as my heart starts beating too fast to stand still, too fast to leave, too fast to stop the tears in my eyes on a sunday morning. I wanted to be alone, and I was. pink speckled chest and no courage to stop for lunch, but I made it through the museum and left one of my favorite poems on the wall. drove all the way home with the windows down. (anxiety)

monday: today I was not angry, instead I let myself be sad. I was not ungrateful and let myself find tiny joys instead of hoping it would all be perfect in order to be good. I did not dwell in a current situation that’s letting me down because I was able to focus on the little humans and work. today, I found words for a few of things bottled up inside when I wanted to reach out before I was ready. I stayed still when I needed to. let my body move without apologizing for having stayed still. talked myself out of being angry, again. talked myself out of being ungrateful, again. reminded myself that I will have to do so again tomorrow so I might as well let the rest of my day be light. (anger)

tuesday: mornings are just quiet enough. not up or down. I will try today not to think so hard about things I cannot control and for a brief moment, just after coffee, I won’t even feel like a person who should have to… 11am, in a still quiet house, feels more like incentive to complete tasks than to focus on feelings. so, I do that. unpack from my trip aka throw everything on my bed, make a grocery list, fill the diffuser with my happy blend (citrus, valor & lavender). don’t scroll facebook, they all just want to hear themselves talk anyway and none of them are talking to me. 2pm shouldn’t really be quiet and maybe that’s why I’m swimming in self-doubt. I’m blaming it on scrolling instagram when I forced myself to put down the facebook. 10pm quiet and 11pm quiet aren’t friendly, because they never used to be so quiet. (distraction)

wednesday: this is the calm before the storm. I woke up feeling an emotional cold front moving in and a lack of control knowing a deep sadness is coming. it’s a space where I either thrive or spiral. I wish there were better words for this and if there are I’m not vulnerable enough to share them just yet. and it’s not entirely internal, thankfully, but it is very real. humans are an unpredictable variable of which I am more afraid of than any mood swing or depression. it’s about choice. moving into light for one, inevitably causes darkness somewhere (for someone) else. but, I am a match for the storm. one thing I have always loved about being bipolar is that I am forced to think deeply on one subject before letting it go. seems obsessive to an outsider but I can assure you it helps with healing. the sun is coming and crying all day never killed anyone. (grief & grace)

flood. full tsunami. and silence gets me every time. the intensity of things I can’t put a feeling to swirling around feelings I don’t want to give way to. when I want to react and be impatient I struggle to maintain a safe distance from all points of contact. it won’t always feel like this. count all the things I did well today. find the moments of calm and call on them. I’m grasping at anything really. food, social media, friends I can reach out to. (restless)

thursday: I apologize to my kids for the dinners they have made themselves this week and how I wanted to do fun stuff for spring break but after day one, I haven’t been able to leave the house. I apologize to my body for the extra cups of coffee and the meals I didn’t eat.  I apologize to my friends for breaking down every conversation no matter how mundane and ordinary it starts out. I will apologize to the boss of my second job for quitting unexpectedly because even though the type one in me hates to neglect a responsibility, I just can’t handle anything else right now. I will apologize to my home for the messes and the disorganization and the spaces that are too full; showering, or even leaving my bedroom, is a chore so how can I be expected to do laundry. I have apologized to the person I love for being a person that is hard to love and for continuing to be hard to love even when I try my best to let them. I must apologize to myself for allowing the hurt of someone else to become my truth. (guilt)

I stay at the second job because I can’t have that conversation. I meet up with a friend because I need a hug. I let someone else make dinner. I let someone love me, just as a friend, and just because they do. I eat a snack. I put the phone down. I straighten the papers on my desk. (reconcile)

friday: today I feel invisible. just outside my own life enough to see that it is changing. it is fair to say now that this week wasn’t the most reliable for mood journaling as my ups and downs are encouraged by a deep loss. I thought it would help me to be able to document that I made it out of this situation less scathed than I would have in the past. that I had learned so much. that I was stronger and ready to understand God’s purpose for this lesson. I’m not so sure. maybe it has been this way all along and time had an expiration as invisible as me. or maybe I kidnapped another heart just to prove that mine was still working.

but I also woke up knowing the truth about who I am. and that if I no longer fit somewhere, nothing can change that. I cannot do anything that will earn me love that isn’t mine. or respect that isn’t mine. or an achievement I do not deserve. there is a purpose or lesson in all this hurt, I repeat to myself every time the bruise of it feels tender. I may not be quite ready to move beyond it, sometimes we need the hurt a bit longer, but I am told that I will. (repetition)

saturday: I wanted to wrap this week up and be positive. a manic streak thrown in to prove I could still get shit done. I met a friend for coffee at a place Ive been dying to try and felt guilt for having a first without the person I share everything with. I’m realizing I have to get over that. then a one hour drive with my two girlies and a last minute addition of my ex husbands step daughter, don’t say I won’t do anything for kids, to my middle littles gymnastics meet. I am so proud of her and heightened good emotions lead to not one but two trips to the restroom to cry. the pendulum swings. and a quiet drive home bc they all were tired and I didn’t play any songs that made me sad. coming home, to my residential home not my “home” home on a Saturday night is lonely. this week was long.

 

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