And Just Like That…

*I wrote this post last night*

Bipolar Disorder Type 2 is such a beast. Unpredictable.

It couldn’t last forever, this feeling of contentment, of happiness. It may have started out as a hypomania which I attribute the launch of this blog to, but then it morphed into just overall happiness. I enjoy being around people again. I make coffee dates with friends and dodn’t cancel last minute, immersing myself in caffeine and good conversation. I laugh more. I’m engaged in conversations.

Throwing myself into this blog, creating content everyday has been effortless. I find joy in it, delighting in the analytics, seeing how many visitors I have and where they were from in the world. It’s been a breath of fresh air, to be so light.

But I can feel the shift today.

There’s no warning, no real impetus that I can put my finger on. But I can feel it. I feel heavy, irritable. There’s a dark cloud setting up shop over my head. I feel weepy, like the slightest thing can put me over the edge. I don’t like teetering on the edge.

I know it’s coming because I binge ate my lunch today, stressed that I have an oncoming depressive cycle. I inhaled two egg salad sandwiches (I only needed one), a Pepsi and one of those large Caramilk bars (my go to). It doesn’t seem like much but when you get it all down in the span of about 5 minutes, something isn’t right. I feel frantic to get it down, to feel relief. Only, what I feel instead is contempt for my inability to keep these behaviours at bay. I’m overweight and pre-diabetic. Why can’t I maintain a healthy diet??

Because the stress of depression makes me seek out comfort foods, that’s why. Comforting things like my bed. I want my weighted blanket. I want to drape it over me, feeling relief under the weight of the tiny metal discs. I want to be squeezed tight in a hug or cuddled.

Maybe this isn’t a cycle at all. Maybe I chalk it up to a bad day, too much people-ing. I’m allowed to have those, right? Bad days? I think I am. I think that I’m just so scared of the depression that any slight change feels like a red flag, like I should be on high alert, DEFCON 1 (nuclear war imminent).

Maybe Thursday will be a better day. Or maybe I’ll have to wear my mask and fake it.

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