Yesterday was a bad day. If you live with depression or bipolar disorder, this may be a common statement, aaand it freakin’ sucks.
Last I wrote I was in the midst of starting a panic attack. It went downhill from there. Later that night I felt depressed. I woke up yesterday to the hell that is depression. I was exhausted. I am not sure you really know what exhaustion is until you experience true depression. I was barely out of bed. My roommate texted me at 4:45 in the afternoon to make sure I was okay. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t want to breathe. I didn’t want to talk.
I was so low.
You know how many people called me back from my panic attack “reach out to my support system” moment?
Luckily, my mom listened to me and cheered me up a bit while I stomached a small chicken pot pie (shared with my dog, of course).
So enough lamenting. Today was better. I went to bed at 8:30 last night despite laying in bed all day yesterday. And though it took until 3:00 yesterday afternoon to brush my teeth; I was bathed and shaved and curled by 10:30 this morning. I went to my Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA) meeting and it helped me to feel supported. I got my meds from my doctor’s office. Ran a few errands. I was productive, and for me, that helps immensely – to feel like I am getting something (ANYTHING!) done.
As usual – what is the point? The point is that good days and bad days will come. You will find comfort in some of the strangest places. There are people out there who care – who barely know you, but will give you his or her phone number to call the next time you are having a panic attack.
When you live with a mental illness you often don’t know from one day to the next how you will feel or who you will be. Sunday I was happy. Wednesday I was devastated. These mood swings are especially true with rapid cycling bipolar disorder (of which I live with).
Know you can make it through the bad days. Reach out. Stay quietly in bed. Do what you can to be safe. Remember that for every low there is a high.
From one beautifully bipolar person to the next – hang in there.