Today took work to say above sea level. Emotionally of couse that is. It took prayer and talking to myself and art and an NCIS marathon and texting and loving myself on purpose. Feeling better now but it's still work. It's the process I think. Blogging helps. Free writing in my own ridiculous blog helps even more. I'm safe here. I can record here. The ups and downs. I'm still learning you know. This whole thing called Bipolar 2 and how it is affecting me. This entry will be one long or not so long probably poorly spelled and punctuated and even worse(ly?) paragraphed emotional vomit. As if that's new. But that's good for me. To get it out. I know I'm more vocal about the down days on this blog than I am the up days but I understand that even if you (whoever you are) don't. I'm out living my life on the up days.
*Note to self: I have to talk to my therapist and psychaiatrist (sp?) about being so cautious about the ups.
In the past, the cycle has been I would get crazy up. Laughing and gleeful (I've never used that word before) and filled with all kinds of awesome energy, then the next day or a few days later I would crash and get so low. Like I was in a tunnel I could hardly get myself out of. So because that's been the cycle in the past I tip toe into the too happy. Though I love it so much. I'm a laugher. A joker.
I had a dream last night that my car kept crashing. Over and over. When I woke up this morning I knew the crashing wasn't about my car. I knew it was me. The dream was a warning. Work out whatever I need to work out before I crash. I've been in the house for two days straight. No shower, didn't even change clothes. Today though, I got up and showered and dressed in a black dress I feel cute in ('cause that's important) then picked up the art piece I put down last night and worked on it a bit.
I've been in Lancaster, PA but will get up early in the morning to hop on the train to go to St. Paul's Church in Philadelphia. I'm looking forward to that. I'll let you know how it goes.
Feeling much better now.