Explain a “bad” day.
A bad day is one where I can’t get out of bed. Where the darkness consumes every fibre of my being. A bad day is one where I lay in my bed, completely covered and in the dark; plotting my own demise. Where I cry all day and all night. A bad day is when I lash out at those I love, treat them like scum beneath my shoe. Or just straight up ignore them. A bad day is when I feel like there’s no fucking escape from the living hell that is Bipolar Disorder. When my thoughts turn against me and break me down; rip me to shreds. A bad day is where I’m overcome with fear; paranoia that makes me so frightened that I just can’t stand to be awake.
I don’t know how one grows to become a misanthropist. I wish I knew. For my mind is constantly trashing the human race. Sickened by who we are and what we’ve become.
Overcome with hatred, for something that I am.
I loathe the opinions of the majority of society. I loathe them. My inability to deal with the utter stupidity of the human race gets stronger by the day.
I would take these feelings away if I could. If I could be blind to the disgusting, terrible things humans do for their own gain, I would.
If I could rid myself of the ill thoughts I have about the majority of the human race, I would.
But I simply just can’t.
I’m up relatively late-ish.
My boyfriend and dog are both sound asleep next to me.
This is my first time alone I’ve had today, and I must say I feel at total peace. To have the two beings that hold my heart with me, but time to myself at the same time is pure bliss.
It’s not the type of being alone where you feel lonely. It’s alone time that’s cherished. To see my loves blissfully asleep warms my heart. Staying up and enjoying the music I love makes me happy. Blogging makes me feel clear minded.
I used to be scared of being alone. I would get paranoid and feel sad. Every single time I was alone. Now I appreciate that time I have.
It’s in the time I’ve spent alone that I’ve learnt who I am. I’ve learnt to appreciate myself. I’m not scared anymore. I don’t get sad over it like I once would have. Instead, at times like this I think about how lucky I am. I’m in a comfortable bed, with a roof over my head, with my sleepy little family. And although I am cursed with the thoughts that race through my mind on the bipolar coaster; I know that I am also blessed.
Since I moved city, I haven’t made many female friends. I mostly interact with males and I never that that not having a close group of girl friends would really effect me. But it has. I miss having a group of friends to go out and have drinks with. To go dancing with. To help choose outfits. To gossip about our lives. To confide in. To talk about makeup and other girly things with. I miss my girls.
I’m not so great at putting myself out there, unless it’s with males. So I’m in a bit of a pickle. The girls I consider to be my closest are long time friends. Each and every one of them is one of a kind.
There’s N, my soul mate, part of me.
There’s E, who will be a lifelong friend. We may have had our ups and downs, but she is like family.
There’s S, who I lived with, who brings out the fun Zoe every time she’s around.
There’s R, my beautiful friend who is always there, even from a distance.
There’s K, who you have had some of the best times of your life with.
They’re irreplaceable. Perhaps that’s why I can’t put myself out there.
I’ve found a group of girls whom I love so dearly that I feel I couldn’t simply replace them. I couldn’t open up to others and be myself like I have to them. They’re all something different, something wonderful. And I miss them terribly.
Explain a “good” day.
A good day for me is one where I get up, do some exercise, have a shower, put on makeup and do my hair, cook or bake a lot, and am very loving towards others. On these days, there are no horrible thoughts. There is no darkness. I love the “good days” and today is one of them. A good day for me is a day where I feel creative and at peace with myself. On these days, I feel beautiful as a person. I am not overcome by fear and doubt. Just love.
I’ve been nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award by the lovely ccchanel41. Thank you for the nomination, it’s much appreciated – I’m very flattered to inspire people.
1) Of course, thank the person who nominated you and give the link to their blog
2) List the rules (hint this is them) and display the award on your blog (see below rules)
3) Share seven (7) facts about yourself
4) Nominate up to fifteen (can be less) blogs that inspire you, on your blog (** also, link the blog they are nominated on back to them..they probably want to know)
7 facts about myself:
1- I was homeschooled for a year and a half to travel around Australia in a car. When I came back to school I was too advanced for classes because I read so much during my homeschooling adventure.
2- As well as Bipolar and Panic Disorder, I have Endometriosis. I have suffered from it for years and it is often the root of breakdowns.
3- I have a scar on my nose where a Whistling Kite stole a sandwich out of my mouth. And one beside my eye from running into a trolley.
4- I’m a sex maniac. I am constantly thinking about it. Like, all the time.
5- I have an obsession with Pomeranian dogs. I want a farm full of them, I love them so. I’m already working on asking my boyfriend for a second.
6- I’m a fantastic cook. I can invent recipes and make them taste delicious even if I’m not trying too hard.
7- I constantly change my hair and can never be satisfied with what it looks like. Who knows why. I have had just about every hair colour and even shaved my head multiple times. Now I’m growing it and want it shaved and the opposite colour to what it is.
Hannah for her honesty in her blog about living with Bipolar Disorder. She’s a fantastic writer and inspires me just by her writing.
Nicole also for her honesty, as well as her passion. Her writing is flawless and is an inspiration to me.
How is your day-to-day life effected by your mental illness(es)?
My day to day life is based around mental illness. I can’t work and I am on Disability Pension, so my entire income is from the Government, which isn’t much at all. $300 a fortnight if I’m lucky. My rent is $300 a week and I contribute $150 a fortnight. The rest of my money goes to bills and food so there isn’t really much chance of me doing anything fun. I don’t have the money to do anything, so I stay home most the time. As I am also depressed at the moment, I am going out even less. I don’t really have much of a social life unless people come to see me. So yeah, it has effected my life pretty drastically.