Yesterday I was energetic and full of positive mood and talkative and social with coworkers and strangers. I got 9 (nine!) hours of sleep. And I almost fell asleep during the morning session (even though I was really interested.)
And now I am sitting as far away as possible from everyone, and I feel not energetic and not positive. I find myself dwelling on the fact that I am the only person from my place of employment at these meetings without a contract. They in no way treat me like an outsider. But I can do that very well by myself.
I am not sure if I have saught this quiet refuge because I am overloaded on crowds and am taking a healthy brain break so I can restore my energy or if I am sulking in a corner because I am experiencing some clay-faced crap.
Regardless, I will enjoy this time and hopefully use it to get back to at least a normal energy level and hopefully regain the ability to have a facial expression. I'm telling you this is better than botox. Ugh.
Yesterday I was so excited about all the ideas I was getting and all the things I could do with them and ways that my current job and my career could go. Right now I am feeling somewhat despondent about the fact that I have interviewed twice (with some of the people here with me) and been passed over.
I knew that my 3.5 hours of sleep would catch up with me. And my increased energy levels would suck something out of me. This day-to-day shift is one of the things that originally caused me to reject any relationship between me and bipolar.
Because the first things I read all indicated that manic or hypomanic episodes last a week. I have never (that I am aware of) maintained my frenetic energy for an entire week.
But of course it is not that clear. Rapid cycling involves much shorter periods of mania and depression. So I might be a candidate for that. More speculation on my part. I should call and schedule. Just a sec...
I have an appointment to see my Once and Future Psychologist on Friday sept 19 @ 12:30
Tangent: The Once and Future Psychologist
Once upon a time I was an angst-ridden teenager whose friends were worried about her. So her parents sent her to therapy. She figured that the best way to get out of therapy was to be very compliant. So she was. Until one day when she was angry that an appointment had been scheduled for the same day as a French exam.
Then she decided that she would not participate.
The therapist decided (out of the clear blue sky) that this beligerent teen was the "real" one and the compliant one was fake. She told my parents that I should be hospitalized. They decided to get a second opinion. The therapist said if they took me back to school (which I would insist upon) I should have someone keeping an eye on me to make sure I was not alone.
Second opinion: she walked into the psychologist's office for a second opinion.
"So, why are you here?"
"Because they think I'm suicidal."
"Are you suicidal?"
"Okay. Well, we have some time to kill now. Anything else you'd like to talk about?"
Okay, so it might not have gone quite that way. Or it might have. The angst-ridden teenager was fourteen.
Two years later this same psychologist was doing intake for the outpatient eating disorders group. Angst-ridden teen showed up with her family. Psychologist recognized the parents, but said, "I didn't know you had another daughter..." Which was scary. The teen didn't think she looked any different than she had before.
And now she works for a different clinic, doesn't just see children and adolescents, and is accepting new patients.
Greatful Crap: follow-through on making an appointment
got enough sleep (but I really can't rollercoaster like that betwen 3.5 one day and 9 the next)
talked with colleagues
hid in a corner with my computer typing and failing to mak
Quaker, teacher, parent,