Well, I’m three days into feeling like a normal, functional, optimistic yet realistic person In other words–the non-mentally ill me.
It was so fantastically awesome to sit down with my therapist today and tell her “I’m fine, really. I feel good, and I’m OK with it. I’m not questioning it. I’m not anxious about it. I’m OK.”
So we talked about the change..and what I’m doing now that I can function.
And we also talked about how we simply don’t know what is going on.
I know, I know. I’ve been saying all over the place that I have bipolar. And there were times when she was certain that it was–times that I was certain. Then something else would happen and it didn’t make sense anymore. And then something else would happen and it would make sense again. Sometimes it was just depression. Sometimes it was just anxiety. Sometimes it was OCD. Sometimes it was everything all at once. Sometimes it was none of it. Sometimes it was some weird ass thing that was all new.
Sometimes all those unknowns make me feel legitimately crazy, because I can never go “this is how I feel and this is why.”
But somehow, our conversation today on how it doesn’t make sense made me feel better. I don’t know whats going on, but neither does she or my psychiatrist. And that’s OK. If there’s anything I’ve learned over the past two years–its that uncertainty is OK.
I know there will be a crash. My therapist is waiting for it. I’m waiting for it. Neither of us said it, we talked around it, but we are waiting. But the high to the low doesn’t feel like it will be too extreme this time. I hope.