I sat in my bed this morning for 3 hours nearly in tears because I couldn’t make myself get out of bed and go to work. Texted my boss that I was sick, texted a friend for support, and texted my therapist, because this is new. I have never, ever, not been able to get out of bed in the 15 or so years I have been putting up with this shit. I never even had an idea what that felt like. I do now and it sucks. Then I got really mad at this bipolar thing, my stubborn side kicked in, and I sat in my bed with my laptop and worked from home for a bit. Time #3423 my stubborn side saved my ass.
Therapist immediately told me to come in this afternoon. Apparently saying that I called in sick at work and that I felt like I was watching myself fall into a black hole is a red flag…(I cringe now even as I write that. It sounds so dramatic, but that was seriously the only way I could think of to describe it at the moment.)
So of course we have to have the fun little “Do you think you need to go to the hospital?” and the whole “so tell me what happened” conversation.
She sits up in her chair looks me dead in the eye and says:
You have a wicked case of bipolar. That’s what this is. And its going to be a bitch until we figure it out.
And I just keep repeating that to myself, because it says to me that
- This is real.
- This sucks.
- Someone gets it.
- I don’t have to struggle by myself.
Not to mention the statement made me laugh.