The thing about bipolar is that everything has its price. Being high for weeks has eventually led me down a very slippery slope. Yesterday I felt on top of the world. Today that couldn’t be further than the truth.
The last couple of weeks I’ve done a large portion of my Christmas shopping. Shopping excessively is a hallmark of mania. Last week I felt like I had overdone it in a short period of time worrying that it would keep happening for an extended period causing problems. Right now I’m glad I did it because I don’t know when I’ll be able to face the shops again.
Last week I got an impulsive matching tattoo (small thank goodness!) with someone. I know every tattoo has its background story which last week I loved (and I’m sure I will again) but today that sounds stupid.
Last week Nathan caught me on a good day and we bought a puppy he’s been wanting for a few years. Today I’m cursing because I’m the one chasing him around stopping him from chewing stuff and cleaning up his pee.
Last week I was loving having bipolar because of the intoxicating high that had lasted for weeks. Today I loathe it because of this devastating low which I hope only lasts for a few days.
Last week I had boundless energy and drive despite a lack of sleep. Today I’m “hungover” from a night awake stressing and know I’ll be tired for days.
Bipolar is like a game of snakes and ladders. Always something to lead you up or down, but those two extra special tiles, the one that takes you from 10 to 88 and the one that goes from 95 back down to 2. One feels amazingly lucky, the other like you can’t ever win at anything. Yet they both exist on the one board. Both take you from one end, dangerously close to the other.
Today (and realistically most days) I hate this stupid disease. I hate that I used to have such good control of it I didn’t even know it was there yet now, it seems to be controlling me. I have asked why I can’t control it anymore and the answer was that sometimes conditions get worse. Like suddenly developing diabetes or high blood pressure. Or having a stroke or heart attack. It still sucks.
Last week I was glad things in me had changed. This week I just want it to go back to how I was.