The Bad Day

I am fond of the saying ‘It’s a bad day, not a bad life.’

But it is so very difficult to see things that way when the bad days stack up.

I’ve had a turbulent couple of weeks, what with battles with medication, a potential new diagnosis, phone badminton with an evasive psychiatrist and some personal confrontation which frankly I could have done without. I have some big life changes to think about and now is probably the worst time to be thinking about them.

Things have built up and although I’ve been trudging along I am having to accept that today is a bad day, with a capital B.

Today I will go easy on myself, and do the minimum required to look after myself, my pet and my home, and protect my environment. This includes ignoring certain people and situations, feeding the cat, doing some washing, putting clean clothes away, remembering to eat and bathe, and drink water regularly. It is not much yet I am resenting every second of it.

It is a truly horrible feeling.

It’s the second day of spring, the sun is out and it’s mild outside. I’ve forced myself out, stroked the neighbours cat, assessed the clean up the garden needs. The fresh air was cold and invasive, the sunshine too bright and I feel guilty for not embracing it, for not being joyful or appreciative because the sunshine often makes me so much happier, I generally fair better in the spring and summer. But today it has not won me over.

I know I have much to be grateful for but I just can’t see it, I can’t feel anything but anguish and despair.

I want people to know that I’m trying. I really am. But all the healthy habits and coping mechanisms seem to slip away at times like this . It’s like the ears are picking up on the music but it isn’t reaching my soul. It isn’t even close.

My legs feel like jelly, and I cannot stand for very long. My head feels full of bitter cement and bile and it’s starting to set. And my heart feels like it is breaking over and over. There are tears and sighs and I have hidden my head under the duvet more than a few times already. And it is not even midday.

I keep forgetting that I get like this! It is a strange amnesia that comes over me when I am anywhere between average and manic, which makes me forget the polarised state. Everytime it comes back, it comes back harder and it’s like a slap in the face.

I just want to be well.

And I am so very tired of fighting with myself, or this thing that resides in my brain and takes over sometimes.

The doctor says that it is too complex to name and juggles several possibilities, waiting for something to further break, something that gives them clarity as to what or how many monsters there are in there.

All I know is on Bad days, there is no room for me in there, there is no place for me in the world at all.

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