I’m having a rough day. I’m tired and overwhelmed. I made my second cup of coffee today with a cup of coffee. You heard me. I poured coffee back through the coffee maker. It just felt necessary.
Technically what I’m experiencing today is a mixed episode of bipolar. Back and forth and back and forth. All day. It’s making work incredibly difficult. I’m worrying, writing, freaking out, crying, getting excited, cleaning, day-dreaming, and planning. I would imagine ADHD feels something like this.
When my husband came home for lunch I was clean, dressed, and happily cleaning the kitchen. Within 10 minutes of talking, I was grouchy and monosyllabic. For no reason. Like, actually no reason at all.
I retired to the couch felt an intense wave of jealousy wash over me. I know we’re not supposed to be jealous, we’re definitely not supposed to admit it, but I am straight up jealous right now.
I know I should be grateful, which I try to be, for all the wonderful things I’ve been blessed with. But I look around and I see people moving along with their lives. Working jobs, traveling, going on adventures, and I’m sitting in my house dreading going to the grocery store. Everything feels so heavy, I’m jealous of everyone that moves with such a lightness. It feels like everyone is floating through life. We’re living the same life, but they are a balloon, happy and buoyant, and I’m a sad little rock. It’s so hard for me to move. I don’t want them to help me, for fear I’ll weigh them down and they won’t float on like they were before.
For balloons, getting out of their bed isn’t a battle. Taking their medicine is a normal habit. They don’t have to play mental games to ward off panic attacks. Less-than-ideal news doesn’t send them into a spiral of self-doubt and depression. They exercise, move, and play without much thought. They don’t have to take mental notes of why it’s important to be alive.
I’m so incredibly jealous. And I don’t want to be. Because I know, everyone has their own struggles. I know that. But my heart doesn’t believe it. It’s not convinced that everyone else is struggling with something. My heart feels alone and heavy and tired.
This isn’t me asking for help, I promise I’ve already done that. This is just me venting. And trying to process why I’m so green with envy in hopes that I’ll bounce back from this. Which I probably will, because I always do.
Your Bipolar Friend