At a family party recently a cousin of mine and I were talking and I asked her if she had a boyfriend, she is a freshman in high school. She said no and I went on to tell her that when I was in high school, there was very little time that I was single. I was a ‘girlfriend guy’ that always wanted, or maybe needed, to be in a relationship.

She laughed her head off.

She couldn’t believe that, knowing me now in my current state, I was ever any kind of ladie’s man. And while I did not hold up to an incredibly high standard, I did really well for myself.

I told her that I was in a band, that I wasn’t always fat, that in high school I weighed about 140 pounds, that I was considered funny, even a class clown type, and was, at least amongst my friends, cool.

She didn’t believe me no matter what I said so I eventually gave up. But it stuck with me, which is why I’m writing about it now.

The truth is, her laughing just confirms all my worst fears about myself. That I’m not attractive, un-dateable, and not charismatic enough to overcome those two truths. The obvious issue to point out is that I’m nearly 30 and this girl is a freshman in high school. What would she know about what other 30 year olds find attractive? I have a good job, drive a nice car, play an instrument, I am funny and charming and romantic. I feel like I am a catch, and I feel like my dating record proves that.

But upon closer inspection of my dating record it reveals a lot of pot holes. A lot of women have turned me down. A lot of women have looked the other way. A lot of women have evaluated me as not worthwhile.

Some people might ask me why I care about the other sex; I am happily married. That is true. I am not looking for another woman to find me attractive, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want other women to find me attractive.

It is hard to think that my self-perception and the reality of the situation could be so far off, but in this case it looks like it is. I am not the person I thought I was, and I am certainly not the person I thought I was in high school. Hell, maybe I wasn’t even that person back then.


Bipolar Thoughts

I spent almost the entire day in bed yesterday.

I didn’t go to work.

I didn’t pick up my child from the babysitters.

But I only took one klonopin, my first since that fateful Thursday, and it ran me over.

I was in bed from 10:30pm the night before until after 6pm with the only exception being an hour or so for lunch. I went back to bed about 8:30 and stayed there until this morning when I debated taking a second day off work. I didn’t though. I made it in.

Getting out of bed is one of the things that most people unfamiliar with depression tend to understand the least. The lack of energy to even move, coupled by the increasing fear and anxiety of being late for work as the clock ticks by, it can hamstring you.

I have a hard time getting out of bed on most days. In fact, the easiest way to tell I’m manic is that I have no issue getting out of bed. But some days it is impossible. I’ve found that even if you will yourself to stand up, the temptation is still strong to lie back down, so strong that it sucks me in rather often.

I’ve been in a miniature slide towards depression for a couple weeks now. I’ve had two bad days, including yesterday, being the worst. I’m trying my best to pull myself out, my newly found therapy of blogging, but we will see what will happen. I’m inadvertently out of my Latuda, which I take for depression. I haven’t been off of it long enough to cause an issue but I’m sure ripples will take effect, and maybe already have.

That is one of the funny things about Bipolar. You can’t take anti-depressants. You have to take anti-psychotics, which is technically what Latuda is even though it works strictly as an anti-depressant in people with Bipolar. You also have to take a mood stabilizer, or anti-manic, pill, mine is the classic Lithium. Since I have an anxiety disorder as well, I have to take Klonopin for that. I’ve tried Buspar and Xanax but neither work as well or as long. Xanax is great for short term anxiety, but mine tends to go on for hours. And most people with Bipolar have trouble sleeping and take a sleeping pill. I have tried both Trazadone and Ambien and both work great. Trazadone will last all night and well into morning, so I take that. Ambien will hit you harder but only last a couple hours.

And yet all of that couldn’t get me out of bed yesterday morning, or afternoon. Most of my pills are designed to keep you in bed, which is exactly what is wrong with them, why I hate to take them. The hope is that they help keep you out of your worst spots, while therapy helps keep you “normal”. It is a difficult process, more so than most people realize. Your entire body is telling you to do something and you have to have the strength to say “no, I don’t want to listen to you”. It is hard. Most people can’t even contain themselves when they have a craving for pizza, imagine that feeling multiplied a thousand times telling you to stay in bed every single morning you wake up.

Then call me up and talk to me about strength.