When I had a blog about recovering from Depression that seemed purposeful.
And when I had done my job well And completely recovered from Depression, I could just repurpose the blog into something else.
Track my creative writing.
Showcase my beading.
Publish evidence of my development as a DSLR photographer...
But I don’t have a blog about kicking Depression’s ass anymore. I have this instead.
A blog about going one round after another with Bipolar Disorder.
With no clear end. Except the clear end we all face. But at no point will I ever announce Mission Accomplished from an aircraft carrier with a banner declaring the War on Bipolar finally won.
I had envisaged the fight against Depression as being a relatively short boxing match... maybe kickboxing... in which I would inevitably gain the upper hand and Be Done.
Ok I know this is not true even in the world of unipolar depression, but it is the fairytale I wrote for myself.
I don’t want the point of this blog to be just whining.
Or just pathetic.
Or just cries for help.
But I don’t know what I do want from it.
This: a record for myself and others to see how I did on and off various medications at various times of year and in different circumstances.
From that standpoint I could write about anything.
Also this: proof of quality of life for someone living with a serious mental illness. Or at least proof of my existence.
I just feel like sometimes I want to be doing color commentary for the exciting match where Depression gets its ass kicked in the first round...
And instead I’m calling a bout that just won’t end. Literally. And it’s a punishing and brutal fights and it’s slow.
And the crowd is quite frankly sick of the whole thing but they’ve paid for the seats so what are they gonna do?
So I’m the one doing commentary. And the one fighting. And the one that I am fighting, And I’m the crowd. And we are all just so tired.
300 mg lamotrigine
Quaker, teacher, parent,