Single

Being single doesn't suck. It doesn't. I'm actually about that life. But that part when I've been in the muck of a down episode for about four days and I say everything can wait, that's what it does. Wait. There's nobody here to say "Babe, you lie there and feel shitty. I got this." Nope. And now that the clouds are evaporating and blue sky is returning there is a pile of laundry that somehow did not manage to put itself up. There's work to do. Writing to complete. A book to finish for this class that ends next month. There's stuff.

There's stuff and there's also being responsible about my healing. I have to let folks know when I'm down. I have to reach out and not assume the world can read my mind. Do I feel like it all the time? No I don't. But that's part of being bipolar and single. Going through an episode alone without telling anyone can be dangerous. So I reach out.

Reach out. Reach out. Reach out. And get to all of the stuff when you can get to all of the stuff.