iPhone – Depressive episode

July 23, 2018

And just like that, the depressive episode is over.

I can still miss Nicole, but the sting isn’t as bad and I can focus on all the people in my life that I do love.

I know its over when I feel love for myself and hope in the wind.

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iPhone – Moving

July 27, 2018

Also.

I think a lot about moving with Liz.

I think I’m coming to a point where I understand that to move away is not about escaping where I live now, but facing the fear of leaving and realizing I would otherwise regret this forever if I didn’t take this chance. I can always come back, but any excuse I give her for not going would be a lie.

Leaving my home state is a terrible fear, but one I’ve been dreaming about forever. Here’s my best friend, willing to go with me, how now can I turn away from that chance?

iPhone – Some days

July 27, 2018

Some days I feel so greatly.

And fuck it. The next person I meet that I love and who I feels deserves the words is going to hear me tell them I love them.

There’s no point being afraid of those words or pretending I’m saving them for someone I’ll marry. That reason is just an excuse for protecting myself from the possible rejection.

I felt powerful last night. I realized there’s still a lot I’m afraid of and feel traumatized by and ache for, but fear is not a place I’m willing to live in, neither is regret.

Its time to do all the things, even the ones I’m afraid of.

Not sick, not better

Not sick anymore, the cold is gone. I lied, there’s still a cough, but this is definitely the fastest cold I’ve had in a while. I came home for a few days to visit.

Depression is a funny presence. My sister says things when I’m home with her like how she thinks getting sick is all a mental game and how when she just takes zinc tablets when she feels she’s getting a cold, that the cold goes away and never manifests. She thinks a lot of it is a placebo effect and if she can convince herself she doesn’t have a cold, that her body always stops being sick.

Sometimes when I come home, I lose track of time by leaving my phone in my bedroom all day and only spending my time beside my mom in the garden or running errands with my dad. Losing track of time and days is easy and though it helps lessen general stress, it doesn’t take away depression.

It’s funny to me because I used to be so in denial of the bipolar. I used to think it was a misdiagnosis or that mine wasn’t so bad and I didn’t need medication. I used to think I could be two different people; the one who had bipolar and suffered and the one who was still an independent and carefree daughter. I want to say this thinking was during the time I was still hiding my diagnosis from my family, but I felt this even recently, this need to keep my diagnosis separate from my inner definition.

Part of it is fully accepting the sex abuse and rape and true sexuality and that there’s trauma there that isn’t processed or sorted out yet. Part of it is all the realizations and becomings and general experience in now living with this diagnosis for a few years and knowing how I respond or how long these episodes generally last.

I know that when I’m depressed it lasts at least a month. I know my hypomania in full force lasts only a few days, but with high stress, can reoccur several times a year. I know that between episodes I will have mood swings between irritable and angry feelings. I know that I’m generally harsher towards my family because I trust them but also because I don’t trust them.

I know my bipolar doesn’t go away with positive thoughts.

I’m still depressed and being home doesn’t stop that. Hiding my phone all day doesn’t make me happier. Not taking antipsychotics doesn’t lessen my daily headache. Being surrounded by people doesn’t make me feel less alone. It doesn’t make me forget I have depression or bipolar or desperately need to talk to a counselor.

I know myself pretty well these days. Coming home doesn’t fix or even mask my problems. Sometimes home amplifies them. I’m coming off my cold but still in a depressed episode. Still, it feels better knowing myself even if I don’t like what I have.

Heart shaped rock

I found a heart shaped rock sometime during college.

In desperation for a sentimental gift, I gave it to Laura one of the last times I saw her. She made me feel guilty for not getting her a gift since she got me a little one so I would remember her. I’m not a big gift person and hoped giving up my rock would be worth it.

I collect rocks and was hoping to give that one to someone special in my life someday. It sounds silly, but it’s those small trinkets and ideas that I hold onto when I feel like there’s not much else I can give a person.

I would like to think I’m progressive, but I’m built with some age old guilt. A huge part of me wants to think the person I fall in love with will be the one I marry. That used to be my hope before I realized how realistic the idea has become after I lost trust in everyone.  I used to think about the person I’d fall for and feel guilty that there would be no way for them to stand out from the other people I’d been with or dated. I couldn’t give that person my virginity (man or woman), I couldn’t say they’d be the only person I’d ever been in love with. So I tried to save certain parts of myself over the years and protect those parts so that they could still be a present to someone special someday.

To me, gifts are personal and well-thought out, or at least practical. I’ve never actually told someone I loved them while they were awake to hear it. By someone I mean someone I’ve dated or slept with. I’ve never brought someone home to meet my parents. Two pretty cool facts I’ve tried to keep new.

I almost told Nicole I loved her. I wouldn’t have regretted it if I had, I was just scared and never got the chance. Laura wanted to tell me the day I gave her the rock. She hinted toward it and I told her I wasn’t ready, so she said it would happen soon and I could say it when I was ready.

I’m getting to the point where I miss Laura physically, but not emotionally. She was controlling and too close. And now she has my rock.

That’s a good thing, I should learn to give more of myself away.

Sick Saturdays

Even without a fancy mood tracker, I’m beginning to see a pattern. Weekends with little routine or social plans are not my strength. The depressed feelings are back though significantly better than last weekend.

I went out drinking with coworkers last night and got reasonably drunk before Liz picked me up (I paid for dinner) and dropped me off at my car after. We watched Westworld, which I fell asleep for part of, then went to bed.

Today, I had already signed myself up for a cooking class at the fancy grocery store where we learned how to can and preserve jam and jellies using black currants and bourbon soaked vanilla beans (serious yum). We actually met before the class to pick the currants ourselves at the community garden, which was extra cool since its open to the public whenever. Afterwards, I picked up lunch at the grocery store, headed home to listen to the MFM podcast out on the patio, then came in and crashed for a long nap.

I’ve had a sore throat and extreme tiredness all week. The tiredness may still be linked to the depressive episode, though I think I’m mostly moving past that quite quickly. The sore throat popped up around Thursday, and after having most of the high school class out sick with a respiratory cold this week, I’m pretty convinced that’s what is coming on.

The sky outside is green and stormy and its supposed to be patchy like this through tomorrow. Monday is the last day of school, with most kids not coming, and my old coworkers and I going out for Mexican after work.

Shit is good, it’s just hard being in a new place with few friends, no girlfriend, and a scratchy sore throat. But, I can hear Liz in the next room, I still need to make dinner, and just realizing all these factors makes me realize the depressive episode has mostly faded.

Tomorrow is church and an evening concert. We’re not gone at all.

Salty corn and sore throats

Not everything in my life is depressed or sad or intense, it’s just easier to process all those thoughts on here.

Last night I had a dream I missed the cooking class and forgot to buy sweet corn. Corn was definitely not on my shopping list, but I woke up craving it to the point that I felt I HAD to wake up 2 hours early so I wouldn’t miss the class and HAD to buy corn afterwards to feel better.

The corn was amazing.