How This Random Comment From My Husband Relates to My Bipolar Disorder
On the fabulous date with the wonderful Mr. P the other week, as we sat and gazed out to the sea, he made a comment that made me laugh as it was so random, yet profound. Now, I think there could be something more to it. He said:
“It’s funny how the sea just does that and doesn’t get bored.”
Having been through about 10 pretty good days (measured as 80 percent cheerful, positive, energetic, no tears, no meltdowns, no snapping, to mention a few symptoms), the last 48 hours have been the reverse. The reverse is being sapped of all energy, exhausted, crying or on the verge of tears, frustrated, negative and disinterested at least 80 percent of the time.
This winds me up. I get angry. I get disheartened. The thought I had yesterday morning when I woke in such a foul mood was: “Of course, after an up, there is always a down.” Having thought this a few times, I tried to find a more positive slant, and the words of Mr. P came to me. So, I compared life, or at least my life, to the sea and the waves; a never-ending flow of highs and lows, some very calm and some more violent, crashing through and knocking those they come into contact with off-balance.
I like this way of thinking about it. Even though the past 36 hours haven’t been great, I have beaten myself up less than I usually — no, historically — would (since I’m moving forward and “historically” means it doesn’t happen now or going forward).
I reflected on how I had again journeyed to this place where Eeyore lives.
I have a tendency, when I’m feeling good, to want those times to last. When I feel positive, I want to continue being positive. When I feel inspired, I love those feelings, and I spend a lot of time thinking, Googling, reading, connecting, talking more, sleeping less, and messing up the routine I am trying to put in place so I don’t end up in these situations.
I stop taking my medication on time. I don’t go to bed at a regular time. I don’t eat regularly. I don’t drink water regularly. There is a pattern here, and that pattern is routine (or lack of routine). I need a routine. I possibly need a routine more than most. This is my time to learn about me and figure out how to live my life my way, and that is in a way I am in control of and not just a participant in.
Apparently, the art of living is to get up one more time than you are knocked down.
So, this morning, I took my medication when I was meant to. Tonight, I shall take my medication when I am meant to. I shall get to bed when I am ready to sleep, and tomorrow, the sea shall be that little bit calmer. Over the next few days, I shall figure out how to regulate myself. I said to Mr. P last night that I need to find a way to pace and restrict myself to 1 kilometer, 2 kilometers, 3 kilometers etc, rather than going straight for the marathon. Restricting myself is tough when I am so excited and happy and positive and inspired, but I think that is the way I need to try things for a while.
I can’t do this on my own at the moment. I have asked for Mr. P’s help. We will reinstall the Medisafe app on his phone so he gets the reminders to tell him I haven’t taken my medication. He deleted it when I was in the hospital as I clearly wasn’t taking anything and he got sick of all the reminders! But, like a child learning, I can’t do this on my own and need a bit of support. Mr. P reminding me to take my medication on schedule is a simple step into calmer waters.
Today, I embrace the sea.
Love Becs xxxx
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