Daily Life of BiPolar Anticipating Appointments With Horror

The week has been a long drawn out affair with many things happening. Life all by itself is hard, I mean what other people can see as just an easy walk through the park, for me can become a journey into the darkness without a flashlight.

I stress about the typical ordeals of life, and that makes me manic most of the time. Falling into the pit of mania is something I have the feeling of doing every moment of my life. For regular people, they skip through things and never give it a thought.

For me, I am an individual who has to remind themselves every second of every day that I have a very tenuous grip on the side of a cliff. That grip might just fail me at any moment. That is my view of sanity. If I allow my grip to fail, I will fall into the abyss, and don't know if I could get out of it.

You see that is the thing I concentrate on every day. I fear the void, but I know it is there, and that makes me more powerful. Ironic, right? But knowing I am just a hairs width away from insanity is a peaceful feeling. I know, I am just quite nuts. Don't fret I know this. That makes me just a little less crazy for knowing it.

Sure it might not make sense to the natural world out there. But you see when I know my limits with sanity then I can control it just a fraction more than when I didn't know.

I make my way back to today's stress. I have a regular 'mental health' evaluation in the morning. It is not like I have not done this same thing a million times, still I have been ill for a week worrying about it. Why worry? EVERYONE asks me. Well, I don't know actually why it makes me sick and why I consume myself with worry, it just happens.

I begin to get sick whenever I know someone is going to focus their entire attention on me. I mean here I will be the only one in the room with a new doctor, and they will look at me. That by itself sends me into fits of anxiety; then they begin the questions that I just don't want to share with them or anyone.

I am not ashamed of being Bipolar, nor do I think it makes me a bad person because I have a mental problem. But all the years of hiding it come flooding back whenever I get put in one of these positions. One where I haven't controlled the inception. One where I a forced to talk to a stranger.

So as the hives begin to spread over my entire body, I scratch without even realizing it, and I watch the clock on the countdown to my appointment. Knowing full well that sleep will not be calling me tonight.