Dear justafriend, I really hope that you can find a way to have joy and fun. I take meds, and I do have joy and fun. The meds have helped my creativity a lot. I can slow down and not rush through my things -- don't speed up anymore when I play my music, can pace myself in drawings, where I don't feel driven to finish one all at once, which means the last parts of the drawing are sloppy.Now, I work on a drawing for a little while for a few days, and it turns out well.
But I still get hypomanic, and depressed. Yesterday, I was way, way down at the bottom of my mood chart depression. Much worse than I have been in a very very long time -- and for good reasons. I'm terrified after the election, one person I know died, my brother is extremely ill and can't do all the physical things that have been his life until suddenly they were gone. Nobody can figure out what's wrong with him, or what if anything can be done to help him. He is 71 years old and up until about 6 weeks ago, he was building metal gates and welding his art work on them. His favorite pastime -- this is the truth -- is digging ditches by hand. My brother also told me about this mentally ill disabled man who is an artist. My brother went the man's art show, and met that young man, and learned of his abusive childhood. I wish my brother had not told me. All this really, really got to me.
I copied a bunch of cat pictures from the google images, pasted them in Word posters. With uplifting things that fit the cat picture. These help me a lot. They motivate me and cheer me up, and prevent episodess.
Quote:
Originally Posted by justafriend306
Stability? Stability for me has come to mean a boring life devoid of those pastimes, loves, and joys of my manic life. Stability has meant even being dragged from the very earth so linked to my being to a land similarly devoid of heart, of spirit, of my very connection to what I considered divine.
From soaking up the spirit of all that surrounds me atop a mountain, from hiking through the thick raincoast forests, from kayaking amongst the orca, from snowshoeing a trail, I was dragged kicking and screaming to the land of flat endless, cold, and barren prairie - where not a single tree that stands was planted by human hands.
Stability means having to mourn the past with the realization that what once brought joy can never be experienced again.
But I suppose stabiity is neccesary - despite the sheer volume of anger and resentment for it. I DO recognize I could not maintain the previous status quo. I think this makes the mourning of that life that much more difficult. The anger though directed at those who dragged me into this current life of stability is not quelled.
No, I do not like being 'stable'. The hardest part about it of all? Knowing that this is the best thing for me.
|