Single. Unemployed. Bipolar.

I know, I said I’d be back soon and I wasn’t. Life has thrown me yet another curveball. I was laid off — again. That’s right, I lost my job for the third time in four years. I was doing pretty well about all of it until today, the second day of unemployment. It’s not even the unemployment part that’s bothering me. I’ve lived through this twice before and I can do it again. I know it’s not because of me or my contributions to the company, but was a matter of cost-savings and a website that wasn’t working. This isn’t going to push me over the edge. The main problem is that I’ve been doing relatively well the past little while, and I’m worried about the crash.

Because there’s always a crash.

I’m also getting sick of people who don’t know me and don’t know all the shit I’ve been through telling me “Don’t worry, you’ll land on your feet” and shit about a window opening, etc. They have no idea or don’t care that I’m not worried about finding another job. I can find another job — that’s not the problem here. I’m educated and not a total lunatic; I would work at Tim Horton’s if it would pay my rent.

No, I’m worried about what this is going to do to my fucked up mind. I’m worried that I’ll slip down into the depression that hasn’t fully grasped my soul the past little while and I won’t be able to pull myself out of it this time.

I’m worried that the fact I’ve been off the mood stabilizers for almost a year will come back to bite me in the ass now that things aren’t all rosy. One anti-depressant and a sleeping pill is not going to keep me on an even keel during this, is it?

Last time I saw Dr. A, a couple of weeks ago, I was feeling fine about being laid off. I was still in the rosy twilight of my job, knowing that things were going to be okay, and he was surprised and happy at how well I was dealing with it. So was I. Then the job ended and I drank more than I’ve ever drank in probably my entire life, and I’m paying for it now.

Which brings me to another problem. I can’t handle the lows that come after a night of drinking. I love the feeling of weightlessness that comes with drinking, and the feeling that I don’t have a care in the world. When I’m having a few drinks with a good friend, I don’t have to think about how depressed or manic or shitty or whatever mood I’ve been in that day. I can actually relax and enjoy my life. Which is why it’s so hard to stop, even when I deal with the unbelievable shittiness that comes the next day.

I know that I’m still feeling the effects of drinking so much on Wednesday night. I know that I’m having a shitty time because I couldn’t control myself. Why do I always do this to myself? I don’t know how to control anything in my life. I can’t stop smoking. I can’t control my drinking. I can’t control my mood swings or the tears that come to my eyes when I think about how unhappy I am with the way my life is progressing.

Single. Unemployed. Bipolar. Lonely. Alone.

I’m quite the catch.


One last thing that’s actually kinda cool. I got an email from Boston University’s Center for Psychiatric Rehabilitation, and they’re going to use my “Spirituality and bipolar” post in their newsletter. Pretty cool, and I shall link to it when it’s out.

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