27 January 2011

Exhaustion and Bipolar: A fun mix.

I've had a shitty day so I'm probably just rambling to you.

It started sluggish. I really did not want to get out of bed. I had dreams again. Weird ones. Why the fuck Mom was driving me and 3 of my professors around the German countryside from castle to castle babbling about everything, I do not know. She's fucking dead.

Dad lovingly passed his cold to me. I appreciate it. Really, I do.

Watched "Stranger Than Fiction" in class which didn't do me much good emotionally on the death front or the love front, especially when coupled with questions about death. So now I'm missing Mom even more, and have decided that men suck and I do not like this forced celibacy. Even Popes got laid and had bastard children.

By 3:30 I was just twitchy, pissy, easily annoyed and distracted and just wanted to come home and blog about my shitty day and the effects of exhaustion/lack of sleep on bipolars.

On the upside, it takes days to cycle for the most part instead of like 8 times in one day.

6 hours of sleep is not enough... especially when this 6 hours is in shifts. 3 here, 2 there, another one over there. I've been awake since 7:30 a.m. on 3 hours of sleep. I'm exhausted. The effects of exhaustion on a bipolar are not nice at all especially when triggered anyway.

Emotions kick in overdrive: rejection, love, lust, hate, annoyance, jealousy, anger, disappointment, whatever.

Paranoia kicks in: "Is this person really a friend?
What is that trusted person really saying behind my back? Is the asshole just laughing at me? Am I the 'charity case' friend, like a stray dog'? Is this person avoiding me? Did I piss him/her off? Scare him away? WTF?!?" in the interpersonal relationship department.

"Do I really have a future? Am I a good enough writer to make it? Am I really intelligent enough to earn my respect and stripes, or are these assholes just playing with me? Surely these assholes are just playing with me, deriving some sick sense of joy in building me up just to demolish me." in the "professional/educational" department, just to name a few paranoid ideas.

Self-thoughts. Oh my god the thoughts will not shut the fuck up. It's like living with a bitter, pissed off, nag for a wife locked in your head 24/7: You can't shoot her, you can't kick her in the face, you just have to hear her nag and nag and nag, repeating the same things over and over and over..

You're ugly. Fat. Annoying. Too aggressive. Needy. Emotional. For fuck's sake you can't even keep employment long enough to pay for your own shit. You live off of college's financial aid. Don't own nothin' but a fuckin' truck and 3 horses. Naturally, you'd fall for a man who is a perfect fit and he's scared of relationships... not that you're that good of a woman anyway, all your fat ass can do is cook and eat. All you do is mooch when you get done wasting your money on stupid shit in manic phases. Speaking of which, you're stupid. Even if you do manage to graduate, you ain't gonna make nothin' of yourself. You ain't that good of a writer and nobody wants to read the shit you write anyway. Can't get a normal blue-collar job like everyone else, gotta be fucked up in the head. You can't rise above the level of your low-birth.

Unshakable feelings of inadequacy, failure, worthlessness and loneliness appear.

Perhaps it's a good thing I started counseling. Now I'm going to drink 2 shots of Jager, take my medicine and sleep for however long I can sleep.


  1. Rambling, gonna ramble on... sing my song...

    Um, yeah. can definitely relate to the "spending all my money stupidly during manic phase."
    And the negative thoughts and not sleeping well.

    It got REAL old about the 3rd decade.

    Sometimes I tried going back and figuring out when this shit all started, when I went from "normal" to "bipolar." I remember depressive episodes in high school, not that anyone - including me - recognized it. I think the first clear manic episode was in my early 20s.

    I have gone off on people who disturbed my sleep. I have moved to a new apartment suddenly just so I could sleep. I have literally broken down in tears because I was disturbed during sleep.

    Sleep, at some point, gets to be life-or-death important.

  2. I feel your pain. Sorry I missed you today. I was looking for you today. spending money stupidly is one of those things that most bipolars have in common. I have those questions that plague me too and will not let me rest. There are the nights you wake up thinking what you dreamed was so real. you wake up in a panick attack heart racing cold sweats and wondering what the hell happend. It has become a way of life that no one associated with you truley understands your pain. Except for those living it themselves.