The Cliche Ups and Downs

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I have more anger than depression these days, but both are greatly affecting me.

My counselor told me she'd rather me be angry than depressed, since anger gives way to more fluctuation in moods than depression. Depression is often a flat-line: once you are depressed, it's very hard to climb out of that hellish pit. But anger is a high: it peaks and falls and rises back up again. Anger is "easier" to have than depression.

At our last meeting, she told me it's good to be at a low because a high will follow, and good to be at a high since, though it will inevitably fall to a low, it will rise back up again.

I often feel unsettled when I am aware of my own heartbeat, but I've come to find some comfort in the knowledge that something is moving in me, keeping me alive, when my brain is screaming I should be dead.

I find a sweet haven in the heartbeats of others, mainly my fiance and friends.

But I find myself angry at my own beating heart.

A flat-line seems so much more easy to grasp and follow. Bipolar disorder is a constant spike and drop of emotions, exhaustion, and effort. It leaves you tired to the very marrow of your bones. Your whole skeleton creaks, your muscles ache, your skin crawls with a feeling it should just decay and turn to dust.

Pushing on over the mountains and tumbling down the other side leaves me battered, bruised, and boiling with anger. That's what I am working on.

And I have something else to say with this entry.

Chris and Brook, I am sorry.

Mom, I am sorry.

Marcus, I am sorry.

James, I am sorry.

TyWag, I am sorry.

Tyler, I am sorry.

All, I am sorry.

If you want to know for what, ask me.

Read me.