Seize The Moment

I am so sick of the way mania is glamorized. Thanks to Hollywood’s portrayal, bipolar has become synonymous with little more than excess energy, hypersexuality, followed by rapid speech, screaming, then crying.

Let’s talk about bipolar 2. Ya know, the one where yeah, you have manic bouts, but mostly…You have depression interrupted rarely and briefly by stability and high functionality. Not glamorous. Not interesting. Certainly not worthy of portrayal in tv and movies.

But it’s real and I live it. I hate it.

Over the weekend, I did fuck all. I was in mourning for Blah, in all fairness. My soul just felt devoid of desire to do anything. I went with it rather than fight it and feel like an even bigger loser.

Yesterday…I was a whirlwind of activity on the homefront. I cleaned out cabinets, I sprayed for bugs, I did laundry, I scrubbed out cat boxes, I swept, mopped, vacuumed. I did it in increments, of course, as that is the only way I can seem to stay focused and finish things. But I got shit done. I felt good about it. I even got a shower. Put on make up. I was neither happy nor sad. I was just LIVING.

I would be perfectly happy if all days were like that. I don’t need happy. I need to live.

With bipolar 2, that’s often not the case. Often, you are treading water.

I look around now, seeing the aftermath of two years without a truly effective anti depressant…I see all the stuff I let go. I made ten times more work for myself by not being functional but I will swear on a stack of Bibles…it was not by choice. It wasn’t apathy or laziness. Depression is real. It’s disabling. And while others live with family, spouses,etc so they have help to pick up the slack during their down time…I have no one. I have a home that would probably be better off burnt to the ground because I have let things go so long.

Am I ashamed? Of course.

All I can do is try to get caught up WHEN my brain cooperates.

Today is not that day. I have been productive in other ways today. I even worked up the audacity to call the donor, at his work, to ask if he has dental coverage for Spook. I can’t wait to hear how that simple exchange becomes a drama in his retelling. I found her a dentist, got her an appointment. I got her an eye dr appt and scheduled mine the same day since I haven’t had an exam in 2 years. I haven’t done much else but I did so much yesterday, I am only going to flog myself mildly. With bipolar 2, some days you’re ten feet tall and bulletproof and other days, you just kinda duck down to avoid the bullets. I am avoiding bullets today.

I hate how “seize the moment” my disorder is. My old therapist used to tell me to go with those days but other days…set that one small goal, reach it, then *allow* yourself to be depressed/anxious/etc without judgment or guilt.

Now there’s something ALL mental health professionals need to be teaching everyone with a mental health issue. DON’T JUDGE YOURSELF. No, that is not the same as not holding yourself accountable. Of course, we are accountable. But we are also operating from a disadvantage thus we need to allow ourselves that concession.

Maybe later I will “spring” into action and get some shit done. Maybe not. I did more yesterday than I’d done in some time so I’m gonna relish that small victory rather than beating myself up for not being a dynamo today.

Now I wanna post a couple of warm fuzzy pics and I will shut up. First is my Spook, in her Shopkins dress, bought by the awesome *kindness* fairy.


Second is a kitty pic, but first, I wanna explain his name. Yeah, okay, it’s a tribute since he died, but mainly…I named this kitten Lemmy Kilmister because he was the runt of the litter, born with an eye infection, and the kids gave all the attention to the healthy ones. I figured he was gonna need a badass name.

lemmySEE? Just because you start out small and sickly…You can still be a rock star!



9 Responses to “Seize The Moment”

  1. I’ve been too depressed to write anything, but Mrs M and the kids and whoever else presumes to have the right or responsibility to push my ass have been pushing it to get their shit (and mine, I admit) done. Not ALL of my shit, but some. What I want to do is tell everyone who is demanding my servitude to fuck off. It’s not like the world would end. But my life is a cluttered mess too, of things I should have kept up with. FML. Maybe I’ll pretend I’m manic and force myself to write something zany.

    It’s Tuesday, and I have an event tonight. Thank God it’s a small circle of people and not a huge crowd. I’ll pretend and get through it.

    The dishes got done Saturday and Sunday, they can wait. My dear son begrudgingly took out the trash yesterday. And my dear wife helped me with a project because it had to be done and I didn’t want to start and didn’t know how to do it. And my dear daughter… did her homework and hung out with her friends yesterday after school. At least she did homework. But I’d like her to start doing dishes and vacuuming. I think she’s terrified of chores or something and I think she’d be better off dealing with life now than the rude awakening when she goes off to college. Our teamwork made the project happen. It’s possible the project wouldn’t have gotten done at all without Mrs M’s help. Or it would have looked half assed, and I have to live with the results so I’m glad she got me started.

    Seize the moment? I’ll let you know when I have a moment. I wish everyone would quit with the cattle prods on my ass, but maybe it’s a good thing. Shit gets done, maybe not much shit, but some. I wish it didn’t require all my energy doing the smallest tasks. And i wish I didn’t run out of energy before I ran out of the list.

    I still have to meet with the doctor sometime probably next week to discuss the med-i-go-round. I thought I was on my way back up, and she said the medicine would help with my depressive episodes, I started it, and we lost Ulla, so I have to start the climb from back at the bottom again.

    Holy shit, look up there; I wrote a novel and thought I didn’t have the energy to write anything. So I blame (or credit) you for your love and inspiration. Sorry for kvetching so long on your wall, but thanks for letting me vent.

    I hope you have more and more moments, not just the high-energy days, but higher morale. And I hope the same for me too.

    Love, Deon

    • People prodding me actually makes things worse, I rebel and do even less.

      I’ve had my kid scooping cat boxes since she was 5, plus folding her own laundry, taking out trash…It’s good they learn to earn stuff. Don’t do the work, don’t get the reward. I’m not even a harsh taskmaster, half the time, she WANTS to take out trash and fold laundry. I am NOT raising a spoiled ass princess. Love her to pieces but the world is not gonna cater to her and she needs to know that.

      Zany sounds good. I’d tell you to “get on that” but…You have enough people telling you what to do 😉

      On Tue, Sep 13, 2016 at 9:31 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • Can we trade? I’ll take your princess and spoil her as best I can, and you can take my indentured-servant-in-training and give her a dose of reality. And yeah, people prodding me does piss me off, especially when they don’t do what I want when I ask. Including Mrs. M. But at least she helped me yesterday. I keep hoping for more, which is why I’ve stayed so long I guess. Holy shit, I HAVE to get the little Ms M off her ass and make her do her share of the shit. That drains me too.

      • Dude, I want to pamper my kid, deep down. I treasure her. But that is not preparing her for the real world. So I try to give her a few chores, an allowance if she does those chores, and if she doesn’t, then she loses out. It’s gonna hurt less coming from me than if I pamper her til she’s of age and she goes out in the world and learns, wait, I’m not a princess and I have to clean my own toilet???
        Right now getting her to do her homework is the ultimate drain. We had war yesterday and it was all cos I insist on homework first but she could hear all her friends outdoors playing thus I was the wicked witch and she had a screaming mimi and threw her work at me.
        Parenting is thankless and draining, as much as it is a joy.

  2. I like that analogy of treading water, it’s what I’ve done this week so far. I’m fine while I’m keeping busy, which is every minute of the day, even with the most boring tasks, anything that stops me thinking. Then when I lie in bed at night, it gets me. I can’t stop thinking about her. I just want it to not be happening. Last night I just kept waking up and crying. And my doctor refused to issue my prescription last week because they claim I haven’t been taking my meds since May. Which is bollox, I just got six months of meds in February and couldn’t afford my Rx last month, and the last idiot doctor I saw must have written it down wrong so now I’m allegedly non-compliant FFS. So I can’t even fire Seroquel at my brain at the moment to make it shut up.

    • Well, anyone who has ever gone for a swim in the deep end of a pool knows after awhile, that treading water, swimming back, thing makes your muscles sore and achey.
      That sums up bipolar for me, ya know?

      • Yeah, it’s that feeling of trying to move but staying still and slowly sinking. Also, I can’t swim a length, so that’s my whole experience when it comes to swimming – that, and clinging to the side of the pool like a limpet trying not to have a full blown panic attack. I hate swimming. And I hate bipolar. I recently bought some water wings (pathetic, I know) to help with the sheer terror I have of going in the water.

  3. This week I’ve been getting things accomplished pretty much out of spite. But I’ve been in a mixed episode since Saturday night. So, I get these bursts of energy coupled with irritation and anger. It’s worked so far, but it won’t work for long.

    The pic of Spook is precious. She is such a cutie.

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