Welcome. Make yourself at home.
Laugh with me. Cry with me. I do plenty of both.
This blog focuses on going up and UP in spite of unwilling trips down.
In short, I'm bipolar.
Welcome to the mountain. Let's get in shape together.
Laugh with me. Cry with me. I do plenty of both.
This blog focuses on going up and UP in spite of unwilling trips down.
In short, I'm bipolar.
Welcome to the mountain. Let's get in shape together.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sleepwalking in the Fog
It's a bit difficult to describe how I feel these days. People who know something is awry ask me. Sometimes too much (daily phone calls are difficult for me, and when I ignore them, they become more frequent).
The kids can tell something's up (or down as the case really is). David, in particular, is especially generous with his hugs these days. Ruth, usually the less demonstrative one, asked to snuggle me today. I have tried so hard to insulate them from the effects of my bipolar, but right now, I am too transparent.
When your mom gets out of bed and goes downstairs and immediately falls fast asleep on the couch, it doesn't take much in the brains department to know things are not exactly normal. This behavior has been mine since last Saturday. Never before then.
While on the couch this morning, Seth touched my shoulder and told me that his Dad (who has Alzheimer's) was here. "OK," I said and went right back to sleep. Luckily, my FIL didn't really need anything (or worse, like try to wander off) while I was crashed out. I woke up when I heard him saying aloud, "Is there anywhere to piss here?" And (thank heavens) I was able to get him on the toilet on time.
So.... back to how I feel... It's like walking carrying a heavy load of baggage into the fog while sleeping. I can't see where I'm going, but I lift up one leg with my arms. Put it down. Lift up the other. Put it down. Move the baggage along with me. And so on.
This sleepy ambling takes all the energy I have, and yet I don't really stop. I can't figure out where I'm headed, but something inside keeps me plodding along. At the risk of melodrama, I just don't know where on earth I will find the energy I need to keep this up.
I miss me. I know I'm not the only one, and that is what keeps me going - slowly - but going.
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