When Bipolar Disorder Tells Me 'Maybe Tomorrow'

The sun has risen and the children are laughing in the distance. I can feel my husband rise and within moments I can smell the brewing of coffee; that means it’s time for my day to start.

• What is Bipolar disorder?

I can’t move.

It seems to be the simplest thing, right? It isn’t though; it’s debilitating. There is a fear to jump out into the world, a resistance from my body’s lack of energy and my mind’s refusal to acknowledge all that needs to be done. I know I will be a disappointment and the looks of dissatisfaction will only confirm my need to hide further within myself. If I could be a turtle, I would hide in my shell until all have disappeared. I can hear the clink of the dishes that need washing, the silent whispers of socks that haven’t been cleaned and feel the disapproval of the time I have managed to squander. I have spent the past few days saying the same exact thing.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

There is no real reason or explanation I can muster. I simply hide further in the sheets, knowing they provide a blanket of comfort. My bed allows for me to sleep and not feel, see or hear. The soft feel of my comforter holds me down and allows me to stay. I know I can’t or won’t manage a thing today. Sweet words and loving kisses will not change me. I have locked up and lost myself within the shadows of my mind as depression consumes me. What happened? I was so energized and optimistic just the other day. I was proactive and almost perfect. That woman seems far away from where I lie now.

I know the world means well but I wish they understood. I wish they didn’t take it personally when I reject their calls. I wish they accepted my unwillingness to answer the door. I wish they all could see that it isn’t me; that I truly want to be all they expect of me.

But, “maybe tomorrow.”

I am drowning in myself and the only one who can save me is, unfortunately, me. I will though, as I have time and time again. I will eventually rise, with my knotted hair, my 3-day worn pajamas and a frazzled look on my face. I will force myself to move. With every step, as a million pounds of bricks weigh me down. I will still trudge through and try. I will try to do all I need to.

Today though, I’m perfectly delighted to hide and that is where I will remain for today. So I whisper softly to myself:

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Thinkstock photo via pyotr021