Why does everything always come down to love? I moved out of my home because I couldn't love myself enough to be a good mom or a good wife. I've isolated myself from family and friends for the same exact reason. I find now that putting myself out there, be it meeting new people or dating, is not only difficult but can be very painful. Even worse? Just when I think, ok, I got this. This is good. My bad days aren't bad weeks, my bad weeks aren't bad months. Sometimes the "bad" part only lasts a couple hours. Then something or someone triggers that self-deprecating mechanism embedded deep in my head that says (literally, I suspect), "haha, joke's on you, babe!"
What I should be thinking is, don't call me babe. Followed closely by a firm, but well placed, fuck off gloomy cloud, I don't want you! But what I do think is "Hey, welcome back, how long are you here to stay? Would you like some tea?" I don't want to be that girl anymore. I want to be the one that says "Fuck off."
So, while I'm concentrating on this new way of talking to the confusion in my head, people try to help. For some of you reading this, and you know who you are, I am *NOT* talking about you. Some of you have quite literally all but saved my life. I don't mean you. Please trust that. But the others, the ones who don't know what I'm feeling, what I'm talking about, the ones that still believe that bipolar means you've flown over the cuckoo's nest. They give advice. Lots and lots and lots and lots of advice. It's hard to remain gracious. It's hard to nod and smile and say thank you. It's better though, than arguing with them, than listening to them defend themselves when you really already know? They're just trying to help.
I like the above quote quite a bit because it is honest and simple. You can't fix me, I have to fix me. Just stand by and lend a hand when I need it. It doesn't need to be in terms of love, though that is nice, but if you like someone, are friends with them. Or just a compassionate person. Just be there. Just reach out a hand to hold, give a hug to help metaphorically hold me up while I deal with the demons (depression/anxiety), because you can't do for me. And tough love? That never works. It'll piss me off, but it won't work.
Honestly, it can't be done alone and the battle is lifelong and undeniably difficult. Medication helps, at least for me, but it's a bandaid while I learn what triggers me and how to either avoid that trigger or react to it in a different manner so it doesn't hurt me.
For those of you out there are dating someone who is bipolar. Accept them, love them, as is. /discussion
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