My mood has been on an upswing the past couple of days. I noted that the difference between depression and bipolar is in the therapist’s reaction to the statement “My mood is on the way up.” If you have depression, she’ll smile and say, “That’s great news!” If you have bipolar she’ll frown and say, “How far up?”
I’ve been the good kind of up. I’m not discounting the possibility that it could go too far, as I still have a very clear mood cycle on approximately a monthly basis, and a month ago I was edging into hypomania for a couple of days. Right now though, I’m just not depressed.
Except, I have a very bad habit of checking my phone when I wake up in the middle of the night, so at 4 am I saw an e-mail that upset me. My favorite blogger sent an e-mail out to all her contacts to say that she was going to seek further help. Great news, right? Well, except that her way of doing so includes making her blog private and cutting off contact with all of us.
I don’t know what specifically upset me so badly. I laid in bed thinking it over, because my initial reaction was that I wanted to go sneak into my mother’s bedroom – while she was sleeping there – and steal her bottle of hydrocodone and take all the pills that were left. My therapist is rather puzzled that I often can’t identify the cause of my negative urges, so I really wanted to figure out why this event would make me want to do something so drastic and dangerous.
I thought about going out to White Castle to occupy my mind, but thought that might just lead to stopping and buying Benadryl to overdose on instead. Given that no stores were open at that time, it wasn’t a risk, but I wasn’t thinking that clearly. I forced myself to stay in bed. I slept off and on for 6 more hours, still feeling badly every time I awoke. At 10 I finally got up because I had a meeting to attend and needed to get ready.
It took until noon, when I was eating at White Castle on my way to the meeting, for my overdose urge to finally dissipate. I had thought I might need to drop by the on-call therapist’s office before the meeting, but my mood lifted with the comfort food. Even so, I got upset all over again when I was trying to explain this situation to my mother and realized it was giving me a flashback to losing another friend last year.
That friend was someone I had been working with, and she was perfectly friendly even after I quit the job, but then a few days later she replied to a text message to say she wasn’t ignoring me, but was in a really bad place and didn’t want to be a negative influence on me. I tried to give her some time, but the silence grew longer and longer and I told her a couple of times that it was really hurting me to not have her in my life, far more than being exposed to whatever her problems were would hurt me. She never responded.
I finally had enough of waiting to be wanted, and removed her from my Facebook friends list. Months later I still missed her terribly and tried to reach out, hoping we could repair the friendship, but again she never replied. It was hard to not blame myself for the end of the friendship, despite the fact that she’s the one who cut off contact first.
I know that this blogger’s decision to isolate herself is in no way my fault, but I’m very saddened to have her gone from my life and wish I could tell her that isolating is not going to help her situation.