It’s been seven months since I last posted anything in this blog or even on my social media pages.
Seven long months.
And what do I have to show for it?
I would love to sit here and tell you that I’ve secretly been working on writing and art projects, but that would be a lie.
The truth is… I have bipolar disorder, and have been going through the depression period. My depression was made worse by the fact that I can no longer use my right hand (more on that later).
If you’re not sure what bipolar disorder (aka manic depression) is, allow me to explain. About here is where doctors tend to use a rollercoaster metaphor. While accurate, the mood swings between high and low aren’t always rapid. In truth, the manic and depressive periods can span several days, weeks, and even months.
Manic describes the times when everything is really up, and the victim of bipolar is feeling overly excited and confident. They can also be rather irritable and may make impulsive or reckless decisions.
Most people with bipolar spend more time in the depression period, which is the same as “clinical depression.” It’s more than just feeling sad or hopeless; it’s guilt, emptiness, not enjoying anything, concentration and memory problems, sleep problems, appetite changes, restlessness, social withdrawal, and thoughts of or committing suicide — just to name a few things.
Many people who go through bipolar depression also tend to abuse drugs and alcohol. Thankfully, my addiction isn’t quite as toxic.
I become enslaved to video games.
But I have struggled with suicide. In fact, if it hadn’t been for my dog, I probably wouldn’t be here to tell you this. But even she couldn’t stop me from the self-mutilation.
Don’t worry; my right hand wasn’t a victim of this. Actually, the doctors haven’t been able to figure out what’s wrong with my hand. Everything appears normal on the MRI and X-ray scans. But I can’t grasp or twist anything. This makes everyday activities like getting dressed, cooking, making the bed, putting on makeup, and brushing my teeth a challenge (just to name a few). I can’t even hold a pen long enough to sign my name anymore.
As you may have guessed, yeah, that’s taken another toll on my writing.
I don’t want to jinx myself, but I do seem to be slowly climbing out of my depression. Maybe now… Hopefully… I can finally get back to work.