When I had my first and only (thank God) full blown manic episode 15 years ago, I was given the option of going on disability and living in my mother's attic. At 30 years old.

So, I said hell no to disability, I spent 6 months on unemployment searching all day every day for a job. I needed something healthy. I found it. I found my dream job.

15 years later, the dream job is a nightmare. I've turned into a workaholic, my responsibilities have increased to the point where I'm overwhelmed to the point it causes a lot of stress-induced paranoia, I'm burned out and I'm losing interest in every aspect of the job, and now it's making me sick. I'm just mentally exhausted all the time. Even Aderrall doesn't really help. It barely keeps me focused and alert enough to get through the 8 hour day. When I first started the job I was on 2 meds, now I'm on 5.

Well, I've found a way out. I'm just waiting for the go-ahead from HR to pack up and move to another department. The key word here is "waiting."

I'm sitting there now trying to focus on work and this process is running in the background of my mind all day, "This isn't going to work out, something's going to go wrong, someone's going to sabotage all of this, this is just some horrible trick being played on my mind..."

Then I rewind 15 years ago: I'll lose everything I have and I'll end up on disability in my mother's attic at 45 years old instead of 30.

As I said in my last post, I can never believe anything good is going to happen. When things are going well or looking hopeful, my famous last words are, "Great, now I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

I start out so optimistic, then I lose focus, I lose faith, I get depressed right in the middle of something good, convinced it will never work out. So, I work even harder at a job that's killing me.