The blues have landed. Repeat. The blues have landed.
Dearest readers,
I wish I could be writing to you from a prettier mental landscape. But it’s cold and dark and stormy right now. I was feeling low in mood and lethargic most of the day– even my dance and pilates classes at Bay Club were stripped of their usual boundless pep and cheer. I was able to put on a brave face and it wasn’t all bad– but in the dance class, for instance, I was at maybe a 70% energy level as opposed to my typical 110%.
I’m not sure what brought on the blues, all of the sudden. It did not surprise me at all, since history has proven that the seasonal shift into dark and colder winter months send me spiraling into depression. This year, it’s not full-blown depression, thank goodness, but dysthymia– the clinical term for low-grade depression. A dull ache of heart, like there’s a 5-pound sandbag just sitting on your chest, making it harder to breathe.
I’m still working, still being productive, but my content creation output has slowed significantly since I don’t feel particularly loved and valued on social media (sub-30 followers on your new account can do that to you), so I’m taking a little break from posting. It’s annoying, how quickly I burn out. A symphony of negative thoughts flooded my brain as I soaked in the hot tub earlier, trying to soothe the blues:
- you’re never gonna be successful like this. you start projects, passions, businesses, books, very easily– you cannot finish them. why the f*** are you like this?
- you’re going to fail.
- you don’t have the mental strength to succeed, not with bipolar.
I know all these thoughts are lies, a function of depressive mood. It’s not true, none of it is. Yes, because of my mood disorder, I have a tendency to burn out quickly, and limiting my stress levels is a must in order for me to stay stable. That doesn’t mean I won’t succeed, it just means I have to pace myself.
I’m not going to fail. What even is the concrete measure of failure? That I don’t become a millionaire, like everybody and their mother wishes for themselves? No, I’m doing great. I may not be where I want to be yet financially, but I’m doing something, which is more than what many people can say.
I have a lot of mental strength, BECAUSE of bipolar. All the resilience I’ve developed from the simple act of surviving this devastating illness, not to mention learning how to thrive. I have sailed through the tumultuous tides of bipolar with gumption and courage, and I am a weathered sailor, with sea legs planted on solid ground.
I am okay. The steam room and hot tub session from earlier changed my brain chemistry and helped me feel loads better. My muscles are relaxed and mind is clear, and I’m glad I got myself to Bay Club and leaned on behavioral coping skills to get me out of the funk. Now I have social dancing to look forward to! I’m debating between two venues: Space 550 or Bachata Flow.
Space 550 has live music tonight, which makes the dancing extra special. Bachata Flow is strictly bachata, which I prefer over salsa, and the leads there tend to be more advanced level, which I like. My good friend Tanzeela is gonna be at Bachata Flow with her date. I don’t want to intrude on her date, which is why I hesitate to go there tonight. I’ll see how I feel in a couple hours.
That’s all the energy I can muster for today’s Blogmas. Short, but not very sweet… sorry if you were expecting a more positive post. But such is the way of life– some days are better than others. For the highs to hold meaning, the lows have to happen, as well. The gradience is what makes life interesting.
Talk to you guys tomorrow, and hopefully I’ll be in a better mood.
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