The “New Normal?”

 

Please tell me this isn’t the “new normal.” It was one of those days where getting out of bed was a challenge of the utmost difficulty, and even a warm shower didn’t remove the grimy film of crankiness from my body. Everything around me screamed annoyance. The cats crying for food grated on my nerves; the too-tight jeans cutting into my tummy were saddening my resolve; the sprinklers watering the concrete sidewalks on my way into work made everything a slippery mess, and of course my gate-access card would not let me into the garage, so I had to “tailgate” another car to park. All of that and it wasn’t even 8:00 a.m. yet!

Unfortunately, this has been my experience for the past few weeks. Everything seems to go wrong, and nothing seems to line up for me. Although I hate to say it out loud, I’m unfortunately feeling a bout of depression. I know it happens, but this time of year with all of its new beginnings and fresh starts sometimes overwhelms me more than the past holiday season ever did. I’m feeling all of these expectations to be new and better, but don’t have the will to make it so.

Two posts ago I was all happiness and joy about a new start and my “goals” for the New Year. Now simply reading that post makes me very, very tired.  And overwhelmed. Not to mention feeling very foolish as well. I know better than to lay out an outline of that magnitude so early on in the year in a rush of optimism. It’s usually far better for me to set goals one at a time, very simply, and without fanfare. I know that it is usually better to share goals with someone else so that you feel more accountable, but sharing them with the world was a little too much accountability for me.

Please don’t get me wrong; life as I know it is going remarkably well. I still have gainful employment and a steady income, my family, my boyfriend, and my physical health. It’s just that the heart lens through which I see all of that is distorted. Somehow it has become a kaleidoscope that has fragmented all of the perfect wholes and made them into mixed up pieces that don’t seem to add up.

I know from experience that this is not a forever-state. This feeling of gloom and being out-of-place in life is temporary. I might even read a kind word or see an uplifting image in mere moments that breaks the kaleidoscope’s hold and returns my heart lens to complete. Or a good night’s sleep will restore my faith in myself and the world around me.

Thankfully I know that this too shall pass. This is not the “new normal.”

Confessions of a Nice Girl

My name is Riki and I have a secret. Well, it’s sort of a secret and sort of a condition. I guess you could say it’s a conditional secret. Conditional on how you know me. Are you my boss? Yes? Then you don’t know. Are you my lover? Yes? Then you may or may not know. Are you my family? Yes? Then how close we are determines how much you know. Are you my friend? Yes? Then  you ought to know.

 

 

It’s funny, because if this condition were a physical ailment, people would understand. When you break your leg or get cancer, people are sympathetic and helpful. The well-wishes are straightforward and heartfelt. Even if someone has never had your particular ailment, they have a built-in compassion for your predicament. Becaue this condition is mental, there is no straightforward sympathy. There is only doubt and contempt toward something so minsunderstood.

 

 I’m not sure exactly when it all began, but I know that it started slowly and then took up speed and eventually drove me crazy, and then back again. The story I have to tell doesn’t always make sense. I can’t even make sense of it sometimes, so I know it won’t make complete sense to you. It won’t always follow a proper chronological order either. I don’t remember exactly when things happened sometimes. It’s not your typical story of glamour, or of true love, or a great mystery, although I’ve found a little of each of these along the way.

 

It’s funny looking back on it how high things looked for a while and how low they really got. Even knowing what that hell looks like I wouldn’t take my experience back. In some twisted way I needed everything that happened to me. It all had to happen for me to be where I am today. Everything happens for a reason. Fate. Kismet. Whatever.

 

At first I thought I was just moody. Being female makes it so easy to blame yesterday’s bad algebra exam and today’s fight with my boyfriend on PMS. Heck, now they even have an extreme form of PMS called PMDD for those of us who go truly mad during our periods. It’s documented female craziness. Check it out, really. The farther along I got the more I realized that I was not a case of PMS gone mad. There was no way to blame my moods and my behavior on wayward hormones. We had a much bigger problem on our hands.

 

 So I’d like to share the experiences and the moments that have shaped my life so far as a young woman with Bipolar Disorder. I’d also like to take you along on my journey of everyday discovery as I learn to navigate the rise and fall that has become my life. I hope that they entertain someone, educate someone, and uplift someone.

This is a new year, and after twelve years I am ready to share this secret. It is a time for new beginnings and new revelations. It is a time for growth and renewal. It is my time.