Bipolar Life, The Journal #24

Summed up in one word, this week is ‘crap’!

(Sorry if that offends, but it is accurate) If I could tap my heels together and wish for the beach, I would board that hot air balloon, fear of heights and all, and head for white sand and beautiful ocean sounds. That fairy tale stays that-a fairy tale. Most years I would be on my way to a beach after the Easter holiday, but this year things changed. It may be a mistake deciding against scheduling that getaway this year.

Told I had no compassion today and baffled by her analysis, I immediately reacted. My tone betrayed me, and things escalated. I attempted to address and correct her interpretation of the conversation, but I believe I failed. What do you do? Instant answers are the only acceptable answers for some people, when you don’t provide them, you are the enemy. The lady expected an instant answer. Move on, let it go, don’t overthink it. I carry no traits of a perfectionist until you bring up work ethic and communication. It is a rare occasion that I accept a failure without the ability to correct it, or the mere implication of a failure! Do you know how agonizing it is to digest other’s words with no rebuttal? For me it is impossible! I have mastered the ability to let things go in certain areas, today it became a struggle. Due to my line of work compassion is a necessity. However, I live by common sense approach and knowledge in certain subjects- protocol at work is one of them.

Measured and applied, my delivery is flawless most days. Is this an issue? I would insert a shrugging shoulders with hands in air emoji if I could. The joy of mental illness- we wonder if every word, reaction, situation, and thought is an answer from our untamed brain or our practical brain. Did I say this because I am manic or do that due to depression? Am I correct, wrong, or neutral? Repetitive questions are fruitless. Who knows, maybe we both reacted wrong, maybe it was her, maybe me. My point is, chasing the rabbit of uncertainty only instigates a cycle of mental junk. With bipolar, I have enough junk.

Mental illness effects us all in strange ways. One day the chore is stepping from the bed. The next day, it is a chore to slow down; or stop caring and shift to caring deep. Our feelings become numb but we are hypersensitive. We laugh, cry, whisper and shout without a pause.

I pray tomorrow is a better day. I think I will sit eyes forward and mouth shut. If I speak I pray I say it in love.

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