Bibbity, bobbity, boo

Diane called tonight and said I sounded down. I feel down. I don't know. I'm done being here. I'm sick of living here with my cousins. I love them, but I can't solve their issues and they aren't ready to solve them themselves. I think in order to keep me sane, I have to leave.

My trip back to the other coast doesn't start till August, so I don't know where I'm going to go, but I've got to go. I'm going to go home for a little bit and pack. And then I need to go to my other cousin's house in another state.

I just talked to Jennifer, and she agrees: time to get out of here. I think I need to take a break. For my sanity, and my sobriety.

Til the sun turns black

I'm sitting here listening to melancholy music, and that's where it starts. I start listening to it, and it's really just echoing how I feel inside. I often don't know it until I find myself wanting to weep along with the low howls of Ray Lamontagne's voice. "Time goes slowly when you're only waiting, Till the sun turns black." The lyrics to this song aren't that depressing, but try any of his others, really. They're all beautifully done, but can be horribly depressing.

Anyway, I can feel the lack of Abilify. I can feel the cracks in my armor generating, slowly creeping up from their origins, reaching for me like tendrils. I can see myself in bed, curled into a tight ball to protect myself from something, the something that's coming. I can see the tears rolling down my cheeks, the self-pity hammering me into bits. It's coming. I can tell.

I'm out of Lexapro as of tomorrow. I'm praying my meds get here tomorrow. I don't know how long I can go without the Abiilfy before I just want to stay in bed all day and cry. As of now, I just want to stay in bed, but I can't sleep and I can't cry. I want to sit under the showerhead and weep, but I can't get it out yet.

I suppose being off meds for a day or so might actually help me. Instead of being chemically balanced I can be a little unbalanced and more able to feel things. But I'm afraid. My therapist and I talked about anger tonight, and all the anger I have bottled up that I can't even touch. I used to punch things and break things until I discovered drugs. Now that I don't have drugs, what am I going to do with all that anger? Should I go off meds while I have the chance and just let myself really feel? Really get angry and bring up all those old emotions? I suppose under the guidance of a therapist and a psych doc I could do it and they could stop my little experiment any time by putting me back on meds.

Bad idea. I know. Experimenting with your sanity probably is up there with jumping off a building to test gravity. So, we're not going to do that. We're going to wait patiently for our drugs and then immediately take them in their proper doses. Just like always. And we'll deal with our anger another day.

Normal is cool

"...mood reactions to daily events are similar between bipolar disorder patients who have achieved remission and mental healthy individuals."

Besides the addictions, like shopping, smoking, and diet Coke, my bipolar seems to be under control. Ever since I stopped drinking, and after the weird period where my meds got used to it, I've been pretty normal. Normal. I'm never sure what normal is, but apparently those of us in remission can feel normal emotions and not be having an episode.

It's ok to cry; it doesn't mean you're depressed. It's ok to be really happy; it doesn't mean you're manic. Normal emotions range from high to low, and everyone feels them. Just because you feel them, too, doesn't mean it's a product of mental illness. We just have to get used to "being restored to sanity." And it's ok. It's all going to be ok.