Skip to main content

Again

Why is it that I can't be normal?

What is normal, you ask? I don't know, but it's not me.

It's not normal to cry all the time and want to hit things and sleep for hours on end. It's not normal to have to fight with your body to get it to calm down, to stop the leg bouncing and pacing and jaw grinding, to stop the racing thoughts and the fluttering heart. It's not normal to love your family one minute and want to run from them the next. It's not normal to think about dying, or to think about wanting to be dead and how to best accomplish that.

My brain doesn't work as it should.

I take my meds. I go to therapy. It all works for a while, and then it doesn't. And I slip downward, farther and farther, until the darkness envelops me and I barely see a sliver of blue sky above my head. Most times it's not even blue. It's gray.

Everyone around me moans a collective, "Oh great, not again." I don't blame them; it's my feeling too, as I take my slow slide into the abyss.

Comments

Brianne said…
I read an article today in the Star about this woman who has an off-broadway one-woman show. She has bipolar disorder. There is a wonderful quote at the end of it that I thought you might appreciate:

"'I’ve been told your wound is your gift,' [Mary Pat] Gleason said at the end of the show. 'I believe bipolar disorder is my gift. But I have to see it that way. Otherwise your wound is just a wound.'"
1:27 PM
Anonymous said…
I wish you didn't feel the bad feelings so intensely.
Your loving sister, Anne
1:04 AM
Anonymous said…
I want you to feel better soon....please call me if you think me listening will help! I love you!
Kerry
6:06 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.
Post a Comment
Read more

Hair

This has become the age-old question...Why do men hate short hair on women? I've been thinking about this a lot because my current style, an angled bob, requires a bunch of fussing every morning to get it to do anything. My favorite haircut of all time, as far as ease of care, was my pixie cut. I loved that I could wash it, gel it, and be done. No blow drying or flattening or curling. Just gel and go. Very sporty. I thought it looked cute. My husband has another opinion. The longer the better is his motto. Thing is, my hair becomes an unruly, tangled, nappy mop when it gets long. If I had all the time in the world and Jennifer Aniston's budget, I'd be more than happy to grow it long and have others style it every day. In real life, I guess I'd rather go for comfort and convenience. And if you ask me, I think the pixie is dang cute. I suspect heterosexual men aren't hot on short hair, in general, because it's too much like their own hair. No matter how much jewel
5 comments
Read more

Ho, Ho, Ho, How Many Times Can I Use "I'm too busy" as an Excuse?

I haven't had time to write. Work, swim meet volunteering, holiday decorating and shopping. But truthfully, I've not been in much of a mood to write anything anyway. Last night we put up the tree and Santa chachkies, and I drank my first egg nog of the season, so perhaps I'll be in a cheerier mood. Also, I have spent some time writing the annual Schoon holiday newsletter. If you happen to get a copy, treat it like a drinking game. Every time I make you roll your eyes, take a drink. Nog, wassail, Everclear. Whatever gets you through. One sure way to assist with merriment motivation is listening to Christmas carols. I'm not going to get into a debate over what truly constitutes a carol. You can "Jesus is the reason for the season" yourself until you turn blue; I generally lean toward the secular end of the holiday tune spectrum. And if you just gasped at my use of holiday instead of Christmas, go suck on a candy cane. It's my blog and my opinions. Deal.
2 comments
Read more