I was getting to that point: struggling to get out of bed - terrible - but what I've found is that, if I can manage that then the rest takes care of itself, though of course it's not a perfect existence.
All my life, I see that the goal has been to lead a normal life. What has, in a way, been liberating is to discover that, to an extent, that is not entirely possible, though I do continue to strive to do just that. Now, at the moment, what I'm concentrating on is self-compassion, though this isn't easy. Perhaps being bipolar and living a bipolar life isn't ever going to be easy, but it's all we've ever known, or ever will know.
What I've considered is that maybe this is a life that suits me - it's possible. Who knows, maybe being normal isn't all it's cracked up to be. And yet it's ironic because the things that we struggle to have, we want all the more than normals i.e. a relationship. What I'm learning to do is forgive myself, and yet it's not easy because I probably want a career more than most, and my whole life has been spent careening around, doing one thing after the next and leaving behind strings of unfinsihed projects, so many that I become overwhelmed by it all and escape into sleep, only to find out that the whole thing just keeps on snow-balling until it reaches a critical mass - this could actually be a metaphor for my life.
The only possible solution is to prioritise, to let things go, and do things slowly, one by one. One thing I've figured out is that we need people, particularly us bipolars, and this is a powerful medicine. Friendships are keeping me going. Hope you're well...
