The Week Everything Fell Through

Over the last two years I’ve built a “social calendar” of weekly in-person or, more often (thanks COVID), virtual get-togethers. Mostly they are play (cards with my parents, movies or favorite tv shows with friends), but some of them are work (shared constructive time, support group, therapy).

These interactions are super important to my wellbeing. They give me something to look forward to. They offer connection and distraction. They keep me from feeling stagnant and help me feel grounded.

One week, not long ago, everything fell through. People had other one-off events, health issues, visitors from out of town. And suddenly my world felt very small.

People are necessary. It doesn’t have to be heavy, we just need people to be people around. People to laugh with, to care for, to exist with. It’s everything really, at least to me. Without people to be a person with (as often as it suits you), what’s life about?

One week without my people—I went a little stir crazy, the world got a little tight and claustrophobic. But they came back the next week, and we were people together again.

Comments

Embrace the Cheese

Why is it so hard to be kind to ourselves—gentle, caring, compassionate—when inside and recovering from an episode? Because we are not who we grew up wanting to be, thinking we’d become. In that sense, we are failures. Because we are reminded every morning with that first pill that something is wrong with us, will always be wrong with us. Because we were taught to be strong women and men. We were taught that if we worked hard enough, were smart enough, we could do anything . Solve the problem! Pull yourself up by your bootstraps! “Pure Horatio Alger,” says Hunter Thompson, which should be our first clue if not our forty-seventh. It’s hard to be kind, gentle, compassionate, when our brains are incessantly tearing us down, trying to get us to give up, give all the way up. It’s hard not to believe your own brain. But we have to believe we deserve kindness and compassion from ourselves. It takes work. I’m certainly still working on it. It takes mindfulness and self-remembering...

Self-Care for Bipolar Depression

Similar to the list for Self-Carefor Hypomanic Episodes , this is the one I use for depression. Some entries are exactly the same, but they work differently here. Self-Care Strategies for Bipolar Depression Tell someone what’s going on. Verbalizing it makes it real and lets you know you’re not alone. Stick to the routine . The routine will get you out of bed. The routine will get you fed and showered. Let the routine take care of you. Try caffeine. If you aren’t addicted to caffeine and it still has the effect of giving you a little jolt, sometimes it can help. Be sure you aren’t in a mixed episode first though. Avoid stressors. Fuck em. Distract, distract, distract. My go-to is streaming. I save a few favorite shows for the shittiest of times. Some people find more comfort in rewatching. Maybe your go-to is music, drawing, reading, video games. Whatever you can hand your brain over to for safe keeping, do that. Limit social media. Funny memes? Sure. Doom scrolli...

Sleep

All of my life, nighttime has been my favorite time. I’m most at peace, most relaxed and myself at night, when the world has gone to bed. When there is no more work, no chores or errands, and the phone can safely be ignored. Loved ones sleep soundly, needing nothing from me, and I am free to write, to read, to watch old movies, to unwind completely, stay up late in the quiet dark, and simply be. But the number one signal/trigger of a bipolar episode is disturbed sleep. My respite has consequences. So now my sleep hygiene (such a Dr. Kellogg kind of term) is perfect. A good eight hours every night (drug induced if need be). No caffeine after three, if at all. No alcohol. No wild nights out. The choice is follow the routine or lose even more days to the disorder. Be good or else.

blobfish-a-go-go

Search This Blog