When “normal” returns

I know I’m coming out fog and back to my “normal” when my world starts to feel bigger than just me and whatever strong emotion that had a grip on me falls back into a manageable range.

While I secretly do a happy dance because I can function and think rationally without a herculean effort, there’s always a bit of sadness with it.  Not because I miss whatever “state” I’m in–I never do because no matter what it makes me like I’ve lost control of myself– but because I realize that there was a significant chunk of time where I said too much, shut myself off from people, withdrew from life, or simply wasn’t able to connect to people.

Most of the time, though, I feel like I’ve missed so much, sometimes too much. I don’t get to have the good times with my friends and family because even though I’m physically present, my mind is elsewhere.  I’m starting to see how my mood affects how I interact with people, and how much of it isn’t who I think I am or want to be.  I’m starting to see how difficult I am to deal with through other people’s eyes when my brain isn’t cooperating.

I know everyone has their struggles.  I know everyone’s life isn’t as wonderful as they would lead you to believe.  I know I’m not the only one to lose friends.

But the only part of my life that feels socially acceptable is my ability to do my job.  That’s it.

I’m tired of dodging questions about why I don’t drink or stay out late.  I’m tired of lying when people ask me what I’ve been up too when I’ve spent the last 4 weeks just trying to survive.  I’m tired of feeling like making new friends is just too hard because I have to pretend I’m OK when I’m not.  I’m tired of not being able to handle overnight trips, even if its just to my parents house.  I’m tired of lying when people ask me to take on more or why I don’t get a second job.


I know I have a “special skill” that I can mange bipolar and still function like I do.  I know that people still see me as a good person and still trust me with responsibility. I know I have a stubborn streak a mile wide that can get me through almost anything.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t be sad about the ways this makes my life difficult and in someways lonely.



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