Coming back from the other side of my Bipolar Wonderland through medication, creativity, and moxie.
Days Alive: 12,164
Ebooks check out from the library: 6
Lipsticks tried: 3
Halloween costumes completed: 1
Jumpsuits owner now: 3
Story elements plotted: many!
Yesterday was fantastically productive. J and I met up after work for a touch of thrifting and some story plotting.
Trigger warning, suicide mention.
Days alive: 12,162
Hours awake: only about twelve.
I feel like I’m drowning today.
I got sleep, probably more than five hours of it, with interruptions. I still can’t manage to stay asleep for all that long. It’ll get better, but I’ve been up since three am.
Days alive: no clue.
Hours awake: lost count.
I still have barely slept. I think my total is less than six hours for this week. My hands won’t stop shaking and I’m so tired my chest aches like I’ve gotten into a bar fight and lost-badly.
I feel like the terrible ice cream cone that’s melting faster than anyone can eat it. Like I’m just dissolving into a pile of useless, colorful goo.
It me.I’m trying to power through. I’m trying to keep going. But I also called my doctor for help because I absolutely can’t continue like this.
Pray for me, and pray that sleep is no longer an evasive bastard.
Edit: typos fixed. I think?
Days alive: 12,148
Current number of ebooks: 4,182
Hours slept: about four
Number of lipsticks I own: 81 (estimated. I actually have no idea because I can’t find them all.)
I haven’t been sleeping. So I’ve done a bit of research. I know a little more about my diagnosis. Still not happy about it, but I can’t seem to quite put into words why I am so upset. It’s frustrating because I try to explain that while I understand that life may be a little easier with treatment now that a specific problem/source has been identified, but I still don’t like the diagnosis at all.
Days Alive: 12,142.
Pain Number: 4
Hours Slept: 4
Number of unnecessary notebooks purchased today: 1
Chicken nuggets eaten: 19 (I dropped one.)
Days Since Diagnosis: 0
I’m not doing great today. I’m not cheerful. I’m not well rested or ecstatic to be alive.
I got a diagnosis today that I hate. Not cancer. I guess I can be glad about that. And it’s likely the answer to the issues I’ve been having since I have been old enough to know I’ve had problems. Finally having a name possible name for the jabberwocky on my back is an interesting sensation.
Postmark Wonderland 