I struggle with type 2 bipolar disorder.
Bipolar has transformed my life into a monumental challenge, and I feel guilty when it affects my family and friends.
FYI: Through my continued efforts with CBT, medications, and lifestyle changes, all of this has improved! There is hope!
Smiling, interacting, being part of the family unit or social circle… all can be exhausting. Between my medications and pushing through the day, I sometimes slip into a landslide of lassitude. Naps are not only a nicety, but a necessity…or neither. Sometimes I want to withdraw to my bed to escape life for time being. Unable to face certain tasks, I avoid it all by letting my bed and sleep comfort me.
Lack of Motivation/Desire
The want to participate in various activities often vanishes. A list of necessary tasks runs through my head, yet I cannot push through the barricade of depression to attempt them. Invitations from friends are declined because there are times when the effort to interact is too taxing. Simply stated, the smallest events can feel like colossal undertakings.
Motherhood Gone Awry
I want to be a good mother, to keep up with my son’s academic, home, and social life. I have good intentions, but they sometimes only last a day or two before I simply cross my fingers and hope for the best. I’ve allowed my son to self-entertain more than a parent should. I lack the needed energy to debate with him why he should read a book or go ride his bike or find constructive activities in lieu of playing video games. As a result, I’ve witnessed his curiosity and diverse activities diminish over the years.
My husband and son have been the targets of the irrational irritability I sometimes experience. If my fuse is too short one day, I may lash out. The smallest inconvenience could set me off. The irritability is often combined with anxiety, and I have to render myself a timeout by leaving the room. Once alone, I may yell or cry in frustration. I don’t want to hurt the ones I love. I don’t want to have this unreasonable irritability and anger.
My bipolar is being managed through medication and therapy, but there is no cure. Relapses happen (aka sh*t happens). I’d love to shake it off…jump up and down, flail my arms, shake my head, and dance it out. It often doesn’t work, but the adrenaline rush temporarily feels good…and I’m sure I’m a sight to be seen.
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