Today is a good day. It's strange to write that and know that what should be normal for most people is extraordinary for me. I am . . . happy today. I say that tentatively, as if I might jinx myself. Today, I can access my emotions, the love I feel for my boyfriend, the fondness, the affection. I had been withdrawn lately, unable to participate in our relationship, less than affectionate, and it had left us at arm's length from each other--a painful thing when you know, logically, that this person is someone you love, someone who is supportive, someone who is, in fact, special. But I can still remember back to being in hospital and how, no matter how much I knew he loved me, I also knew love wasn't enough to make me better. It's strange to be so solipsistic, so self-absorbed. I dislike having to be so focused on myself, how I feel, how I'm acting. In all honesty, I don't feel as if I deserve that much attention.
About Me
- Inertia
- This is my blog. I thought about saying, "This is my bipolar blog," but I still feel like a pretender to that throne. If it is bipolar, it's Bipolar II, heavy on the depression, light on the hypomania. It also could merely be chronic major depression. As if major depression is something you could ever say "merely" about.
I went into the hospital on March 13th, 2008 for depression and suicidal ideation. It was my first hospitalization. I'm starting this blog three months later, to turn things over, report things, give them some sort of reality beyond simply being in my head. Because I don't trust my head anymore.
I'm a 32-year-old writer with one marriage behind me and the unwavering support of my boyfriend, Jb. I've struggled with this particular depressive episode since June 2007. The hospitalization was the most humbling yet freeing experience of my life. I've lost my job, my sense of security, and my sense of self. But I've gained a diagnosis, a place to begin again, and the time to do so.
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