The thing I hate the most about my Bipolar disorder is the constant medication changes. I am always chasing the balance between the highs and the lows. When I am too low medication has to changed. Then I am too high and medication has to change again.
It is a constant battle trying to be stable. Most days it simply feels impossible. It is like a daydream. A plane of existence I will never reach. Maybe it actually doesn’t exist? I went from being manic for two weeks or so to being completely depressed for the last week. Just like that. Almost instantaneously.
Do I ever get to feel like a normal person? Not one extreme or the other? Sometimes I am so exhausted I can barely stay awake for any length of time. The type of exhaustion that envelopes you. Where you walk around in a cloud every moment of the day, shrouded in a fog. When your body is heavy and it takes every effort to move it.
Some days I have so much energy I cannot stop moving. It oozes from every pore on my skin and literally gives me goosebumps. I cannot focus on or finish a task. I go from room to room trying to find something, even one thing, that will distract me for more than five seconds. Something to take away the racing thoughts, the impulsivity, the need to scream because everything in my head is so loud and I can’t catch my breath.
At the end of the day, I know I will keep fighting this battle. No matter how loud the voices get, now matter how much my bones hurt. Because I want to be stronger than my illness. I want to be a voice for the voiceless. A face for the faceless. A strength for the scared. I will not put on a facade like I have it all figured out because that could not be farther from the truth. So here I am, this is me.