It was inevitable. Stress + Bipolar Disorder = Bipolar Disorder.
I flopped around all yesterday morning, hoping this dive might even out before it was time to go in to work, but, alas, no. So, I Instant Messaged my boss and a couple of my co-workers, and tried not to feel like a dip-shit on top of the bipolar mess.
It’s still really hard for me to believe that a workplace—any workplace—will put up with my limitations as an employee. On top of what we’ve already negotiated, I have these days—these unpredictable absences. They’re why I’ve lost or quit every other job I’ve ever had. But, so far, everyone seems very cool about it. More than that, all the responses have been incredibly kind and supportive.
Don’t worry. Take care of yourself. Sending Light and Healing.
I honestly don’t know what to do with that. It’s a completely new experience for me. And I’m afraid to trust it.
I’m also in a deep dive, so whatever my brain is churning out is unreliable. My best course is to ignore all thought happening up there and concentrate on clearing an easy path through the weekend.
Part of that will be to indulge in a little Richard Armitage. His new movie “Into the Storm” is out this weekend. It’s basically a horror movie with a killer tornado as the monster. It’s special effects-driven—bad news for an actual story or interesting characters. Oh, well. It’s Richard. And when I meet him in London (because I will wait at the stage door with the rest of the Armitage Army), I can tell him his Midwestern accent was spot-on.
I’m also going to Anytime Fitness since the Y is closed for cleaning. Losing my pool for a whole week always throws me, so I knew I needed a real option this year. They’ve got a nice recumbent bike, and I’ve got my iPod. It will work.
I also started working on new cards with the old photos I found at my parents’ house. I haven’t felt like doing art for a long time, but I know how it can help keep keep my brain busy on something positive. I will make myself sit at my art table. Something will come of it.
So, there’s A Plan. And there’s Acceptance. And there’s Waiting.
And that’s the best a bipolar girl can do when it’s raining shoes.