I’ve been meaning to write a blog post for a few days now, but I kind of overbooked myself with articles. It has been taking me forever to create them when that usually never happens. I had to force myself to write these past few days. My mood still goes up and down constantly to the point where I can longer figure out how many times it changes in a day anymore.
I think I am gonna need to start keeping a mood journal again. Ugh, all the extra steps us bipolar people have to go through in order to even feel semi-sane or figure out what our triggers are is absolutely ridiculous. We always have to take those extra steps that “normal people” think are pointless and strange. But if they’ve never taken a step in our shoes, they should have no say in what is “normal” and what is not.
I even had a friend who told me I am not bipolar and I’m just lying. After he said that he took it a bit further and said, “If you’re bipolar than I am bipolar and so is everyone else in the world because all of a sudden everyone claims to be bipolar.” That statement just set me off and I cursed him out. As you may be able to tell, its a trigger for me.
I am still wondering if I will ever get over the chaos that certain people instilled in me. I still haven’t heard anything from my mom and her other kids. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and out of my 31 years of life, I had only missed two dinners. And that was the previous time my mom had abandoned me. I know Thanksgiving is going to be depressing for me. But I want to try to hide it because I don’t want to ruin the holiday for Mike and I feel if I am noticeably torn, that will definitely ruin it for anyone that comes around me. I don’t know how am I going to be able to get through that day without breaking down every 15 minutes.
I wish I could drink on Thanksgiving, but I know Mike would never go for it. I just don’t want to cry anymore over people who don’t give a damn about me. I am starting to feel like everything was all my fault that they disowned me. The whole situation just hurts me and makes me unbelievably angry. I really, really miss Max. He always used to make me feel a little bit better. I think I would have been able to eventually forgive them but after they took Max, and put down the family dog without informing me, I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive that.
I have been bouncing between feeling homicidal and suicidal a lot recently. Even journaling isn’t allowing me to get everything out for some reason. It doesn’t help right now, that when I did put pen to paper, that after so long I start to feel like it’s pointless and a waste of time.