I’m gonna get real here for a minute. Sometimes, I’d rather just sleep. Let’s face it, life is hard, it sucks, and when dealing with my depression and bipolar, it makes sleep a valid option and a necessary evil.
So, there are all the natural good reasons why sleep is excellent for your health. Things like recovery, memory processing, and simply rest. But, personally, I have other reasons why sleep helps me.
To bypass reality – my everyday life is full of reasoning, doubt, worry, and anxiety. It takes a lot of energy to work through all of those feelings. I understand people say don’t worry so much, or don’t doubt – it’s a waste of time. I understand that however, unfortunately, I can’t just turn it off. Instead, I decide to get extra rest.
I enjoy writing based on relevant and timely personal experience. This past weekend threw me way off balance. It takes me by surprise! I could be going along, making forward progress and then WHAM!, change happens.
Now you might be thinking ‘Goodness this girl is sensitive!’ And I would say ‘Yes, yes I am!’ I believe I am a lot more sensitive than others. One thing is for sure though, sensitivity does not make me weak, it’s just another level I have to work through in my every day.
I’m gonna throw some love out there. So many of my posts are about dealing with sticky situations that aren’t necessarily positive, so I thought I’d talk about a truly bright part of my life.
My therapist is my devil’s advocate, my friend, my rock, and my stepping stone. I find so much value in my sessions with her and found myself wanting to dive deeper into why I get so much out of these sessions and whether anyone else might feel the same way.
Whether it’s healthy or not, who knows. It works for me. There’s something deep-seeded and primordial that lives within me. And in order to relieve that pressure, I use various forms of therapy to help. One of those forms of therapy is listening to deep, throaty, guitar-heavy, angry, passionate music. It’s like I’m a pressure cooker, and filling my ears with this glorious noise releases the steam.
I always thought it was something I just enjoyed, that was very different from my fellow female friends. Forget Brittney, give me some Slipknot.
The story of my life is an elusive one. Some parts ai remember, other parts are locked in a prison far far away. I don’t mind it. I just figure some parts aren’t supposed to surface until just the right time.
Other memories pop up like fire crackers when I’m least expecting them. I imagine a unicorn transcends time. It’s cool all the time. I like to think the unicorn is tough on the outside while on the inside, it is filled with confetti-like glitter. Sometimes, that glitter is all sitting at the bottom like pennies at the bottom of a piggy bank, but sometimes, when something super magical happens, it floats around like balloons at a party.
I’ve been silent for a while. Part of me hates that, part of me knows I needed it. Breaks, regardless of what they are from, are key to a healthy lifestyle for me.
When my mind gets going in so many directions it can’t remember what comes next, it’s time for a break. Sometimes it’s a break from everything, or just one thing. What’s frustrating is that I can’t plan when these breaks need to occur. It’s a lesson in patience to know when I need to back-off and take a rest.
Due to med changes and brain chemistry alignments, my depression has reared it’s ugly head yet again.
This is the kind of depression that I had when I was first diagnosed, and just getting on medication. So, it’s ugly and angry. And all I can do is keep fighting. It’s a silent battle. One I don’t like to talk about because it makes me feel weak. It’s a battle that is raging in my head while on the outside I seem… fine.
Well, yeah, I’m ok… but this really sucks. So, instead of keeping my battle secrets to myself, I want to share them so maybe others don’t feel quite so alone.
My father-in-law reminded me today how important it is to experience the ‘real stuff’ of life. These days while I have my smart phone glued to my hand and melted to my eyeballs, experiencing life is so important. What is life, I ask?
It’s getting away for a while.
It’s crazy golf cart rides with my mother-in-law.
It’s sitting, just sitting.
It’s being so content that just for a second I drift into the present and forget about the past and future.
Mania and eight hour days don’t mix. Then again, neither does introversion and going out to lunch with friends. So, I’m stuck!
That’s what I used to say. Since switching meds, and having to relearn how to manage my time at work, I’ve come across several things that have helped me get through.
Baby steps. By breaking down my 8 hours into smaller, bite sized pieces, it helps me stay focused so I can complete the tasks I set out to do. This also helps me to feel decent about the things I accomplish.
Brain breaks. After each task, I will take a short brain break and draw, read, or go get some water. It helps me accept what I’ve accomplished, and gives me the positivity to move onto the next task.