About ten minutes ago, I was standing in the kitchen trying to eat a bowl of strawberry ice cream. My hands were shaking so badly, I could barely even hold the spoon, and then the dark core started its shit again. I’ve been feeling anxious, guilty, and extremely depressed lately—I shouldn’t have to add this qualifier, but I feel sad for no reason. Or rather, no reason that others can see; my brain chemistry has decided to take a dive again and I think I’m in the beginning stages of a major depressive episode.
We’re struggling financially right now and I’m still feeling a lot of guilt and self-loathing for not being able to work; I know those things don’t help. My meds aren’t quite right but I can’t go see my psychiatrist until I get my lithium checked. He fucked up the lab sheet again and the clinic I go to won’t take it without a time written on it along with the date, so I’m not sure when I can have those levels done. I’ve stopped going to therapy for the forseeable future because our deductible just reset and we can’t afford it.
In short, things are not going that well these days.
My cycles have been getting longer, which I was told is a sign that I’m getting better. But while it’s okay to have a two-week-long hypomanic, or even manic, episode, the major depressive ones frighten me, not because I don’t know what I might do but because I know exactly the sort of things I’m capable of doing.
I’ve been feeling out-of-sorts for several days, but things started their usual downward slide this afternoon. I put myself to bed for a few hours in hopes that I could sleep it off, and I did feel a little better when I woke up…but it’s back. The worst part is feeling helpless to stop it. Oh, I know some ableist scum would argue that I could do all sorts of things to “cure” it, but the fact is, it’s a simple matter of brain chemistry that’s not quite right. And unfortunately, type I bipolar tends to be very tricky to treat even if it’s not rapid-cycle (mine is).
I’m counting the time until D. gets home so we can talk about a safety plan. It’s important to discuss that before things get really bad up in my head. For now, I think I’ll indulge in my usual anti-self-harm strategy of hugging a cat and listening to music. If I fall asleep again, so much the better. Anything to get away from these thoughts.