Sleep is the most important thing to me; and with good reason.
When you have Bipolar Disorder, good circadian rhythms (particularly with sleep) are incredibly crucial to your mental health.
Without an adequate amount of sleep, which varies between patient, you can experience mood swings resulting in episodes – manic or depressive.
Personally, when I don’t get enough sleep, I become hypomanic. I get very hyped up all day, even though I’m exhausted. I get splitting headaches that I often get when in a hypomanic or manic state. I eventually burn out; and in this time I become rather filled with rage and irritable – yet another symptom of my mania.
Being hypomanic is dangerous for me because it keeps me up further, which messes with my circadian sleep rhythm, hence, causing further discomfort inside my mind and body.
I am currently experiencing this exact issue, as I had half the amount of sleep I usually need to properly function last night. No naps today. Trying to tire myself out enough to sleep tonight.
Wish me luck!
Love to you all x
I’ve officially got the flu for the second time this year.
I hate the way it knocks me around.
The muscle aches, the nausea, the stuffy nose, the headaches, constant coughing and worst of all the dreaded fever.
I’ve never been able to deal very well with getting sick. I become quite sad and feel helpless. A lot of the time it spirals into depressive episodes.
Now I know everyone gets the flu from time to time, but the affect it has on me is absolutely awful.
So I’m wondering – does the flu tend to do more damage to those suffering from mental illnesses such as Bipolar Disorder?
Would love to hear some thoughts on the matter.
I’m in a fucking excellent headspace currently. Not much could get me down. I’ve never felt like this before – besides when manic. But this is different to mania. This is happiness. Plain and simple.
If you asked me years ago if I’d ever feel like this, I’d have given a firm no. I didn’t believe in myself, in treatment, in any good. But I persisted. I took my time with treatment. I quit jobs and went on a disability pension so that I could focus on getting better.
I take a lot of time out to relax and learn to relax in different ways. I work on myself every day and have finally learnt to love myself properly.
I’m a totally different person now that I’m happy. I’m less highly strung, I don’t cry every day, and most of all; I have motivation to live.
“What’s it like, you know, to be happy?” he asked.
The faint smirk that was constantly on her face suddenly turned into a beautiful grin.
“Hmm,” she said “I guess it’s like a lot of things.
It’s waking up in the morning and wanting to get out of bed and start the day.
It’s like falling in love for the first time, the same jitters, just over and over again – and for life rather than another being.
It’s having dreams about the future, love for the present, and content with the past.
It’s like the embrace of someone you have missed and love dearly.
It’s thrilling, like going skydiving or having sex for the first time.
It’s like the warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you get a nice compliment.
It’s growing and knowing it.
Happiness has a lot of feelings within itself.”
He looked at her and smiled back, slightly gob-smacked by the answer he had received. After a few moments, he had let it all sink in, and by this time had nothing to do but hug her. To feel her happiness.
So gentle and kind.
Slightly out of her little mind.
So rowdy and fun.
With a tendency to run.
So flirty and funny.
Not a care in the world, not even money.
So generous and filled with love.
Riddled with dreams of flying away like a dove.
So unique and cute.
At times, a little bit of a brute.
So up and down, like a yo-yo.
However those that truly cared would never, ever go.
And she danced in the moonlight.
A faint light shedding on her from the half-moon and few stars that shined dull in the big city lights.
Her silhouette was sexy; curvaceous with a long, thick mane of hair and an ass in the shape of a peach.
She moved in a way that drew in everyone – slowly and seductively, with eyes that made anyone weak at the knees.
People stared but she did not give a damn. She did not care about the stares, about the whispers. All she cared about was the dancing and the moonlight.
For there was not a care in the world while dancing in the moonlight.
I’ve been somewhat absent from WordPress lately.
Haven’t been reading posts or writing any of my own.
When I get happy, I find it difficult to write for some reason.
It’s like the words are on the tip of my tongue but cannot be put down.
So here’s a little update on my life recently:
The Zoloft has settled in well and I am feeling much happier; with a zest for life. I am much more social than before and have been seeing friends, which is a big deal for me. I still haven’t managed to go for a walk by myself but I’m sure I will get there eventually. I’ve been eating a lot more and feel great physically. Art therapy has been a large part of my happiness. It is helping so very much. I bought myself a colouring book called Secret Garden. It’s absolutely gorgeous and very time consuming – which is good because I feel at peace when I’m doing it. Also, it was my two year anniversary with my darling boyfriend yesterday. We went out for a beautiful fine dining experience. It was so romantic – I’ll treasure that memory forever. Today, I did a boudoir style Photoshoot as an anniversary gift for my partner. It was so much fun and very empowering. I felt in my element in front of that camera. I invited a neighbour to my house for dinner and movies as she wasn’t feeling too good, and simply had a wonderful time.
It’s so nice to feel like this.
I am going to try to blog more; perhaps positive things.
She rocked a cheesy grin at all times for reasons unknown to her.
Perhaps it was the new found sense of happiness and love for life. Or maybe it was to make other’s smile by seeing her smile.
Either way, she was smiling from cheek to cheek.
She didn’t care what anyone thought about it. All she cared about was the good vibes.
And she took every little memory that she cherished with all her heart, and put them in a box.
She titled the box, “Tales From The Loves Of My Life.”
It was coated with gold, much like her memories.
Each memory, a different person.
Each memory, a different experience.
A different sort of love for every single person whose memory was stored in that oh-so precious box.
She dug into this box whenever she was feeling a little blue. Or whenever she needed a pick me up.
She locked it with a key and sealed it with a kiss after she was done with it.
It was everything to her.
Flowers don’t grow overnight.
Much like people.
It takes endurance, persistence and a whole lot of emotional work.
It can take days, weeks, months; hell, even years.
Flowers take time to grow.
Much like people.
But when they grow, they blossom into something beautiful and absolutely unique.
Something worth taking the time for.
Flowers are beautiful and different.
Much like people.