Sitting in my car listening to music and watching the sunset. I’ve barely held my head up the past few weeks much less take notice of my surroundings. I noticed yesterday that I was holding my head up and making eye contact again. I was smiling and saying hello to people.It’s amazing how I get so lost in my own world when I’m depressed. Can’t call anyone. Can’t ask for help. Can’t help myself.
I was out of work again for a month, yesterday was my first day back. My intention was to take baby steps. Get back into the fast pace slowly. Easier said than done. I have a guilt factor that plays and throws me into the whirlwind. My counterpart, who just took the job, had to hit the ground running to pick up my slack. The plan was for me to train him. Instead he was thrown into the pit on his own. He’s a smart guy and seemingly did just fine. But, if I didn’t have this stupid bipolar disorder that I can’t get under control, the plan would have gone smoothly. I feel guilty that I have a mental illness that sometimes renders me unable to function in a work environment.
Wait a minute. I feel ashamed I am bipolar and then guilty that I can’t work. What a ruthless combination. In other words I can’t win for trying. The problem really lies in my fighting my dis-ease. I wait until I am on the verge of suicide, pills in hand,before I seek help. This last time I couldn’t even make the phone call to get treatment, my husband had to do it. Perhaps if I spent less time in denial, less time fighting, less time in shame I could get help sooner. Perhaps.
123 RV, SA, JW