It is so easy to blog about life being hellish, but so difficult when it appears to be coming back together. I think it’s because getting better is scary and I don’t expect anyone to get that.
I think it’s scary because it’s kinda like, “ok, here we go again!” It reminds you that you were down, now you’re on your way up (hopefully to something steady and not just up and up), and you’ve done it dozens of times already. It reminds you that the get worse, get better cycle will just keep continuing throughout your damn bipolar life.
It also means painful progress, because while you’re on that road to getting better, you’re really having to WORK at it. Getting better through DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) especially means you’re going to do some work at it. You work on your relationships, your thoughts about yourself, and you really work hard at being MINDFUL (paying attention to) of every little thing and then letting it the fuck go. It’s hard. It’s like re-learning how to read and you’re not advanced enough yet to read a book you vaguely remember.
So, I’m starting to get better. I’m working on my relationships constantly, from setting boundaries to trying to communicate better to giving validation to just getting some common understanding. I’m working on my relationship with myself, trying to accept who I am for who I am, trying not to invalidate myself constantly, learning how to be kind and gentle with myself. And I’m taking those troublesome thoughts and feelings, being mindful of them, and then letting them go.
I knew a few days ago that I was starting to feel better because I wanted to brush my teeth. That might sound ten ways of ridiculous, but it’s how I knew. I wanted to brush my teeth, and then I wanted to do something nice for my parents. It all snowballed from there and now there are all sorts of things that I want to do.
I care now. About what happens to me and about how I live my life. That’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. And I’m not saying I care 100% of the time, but I don’t feel hopeless and like there is no future.
I survived…again, and there’s a big part of me that is happy about that.