Originally posted on December 30, 2018 at https://itsybitsyinklings.wordpress.com
I’m feeling better today — not great — my mood seems to have lifted a bit. The fatigue is still overwhelming, but a good deal of the physical pain is gone. I haven’t felt like writing — still don’t. Making myself write a blog entry feels right though. I’ve been able to keep a journal for the past few days — another thing that I’ve had to force myself into doing — and now it’s time to take it to the next step. A small blog entry should be a good start. Hopefully, I’ll be able to resume some more creative ventures relatively soon. One day at a time though.
I’ve been reading “The Outsider,” by Stephen King for the past few days. I should be finished with it today. It’s an awesome book, one of those that I have a hard time putting down. Reading tends to help me to see things in myself that I don’t — can’t — see on my own. I can see some of my traits in the characters and see better how those aspects of my own character are seen through someone else’s eyes. It can bring about huge epiphanies. Reading has also helped my mood and is inspiring me to do more. Good books always light that flame within me to write. I only wish that I could write a quarter as well as my favorites can. That’s partly my on fault though. I don’t have a stable writing habit. You can never improve on what you don’t do.
The hope to be able to venture out into some creative writing soon is just that, a hope. I never know which way I’m going to go. Things might get better, but, then again, I might slip back into a depression. It’s enough to make me wish for hypomania. Sure, it’s not good for my bank account, but at least I have energy and a more positive outlook on life — in the beginning at least. On meds, though, I rarely experience hypomanic states. Sometimes that makes me sad. Although I know that I am doing much better with the bipolar disorder being managed by medication, it’s almost as if a special part of who I am is being locked away. A little hypomania isn’t worth the risk of a major depression though. It might be something as simple as my meds needing to be tweaked a little. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist coming up. Maybe it’s time for me to be a little more honest with him — and myself — about how I’m doing. I try to keep a positive outlook, but the truth is, the depression is starting to wear me down. Maybe it’s time for a little more ammunition in this battle.
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