Hard Days Night

Some people still don’t get it.

I don’t wake up and say that my life sucks and decide to be sad, scared, forgetful, or clumsy. I’m a good person. I have always cared for people and in my heart, have tried to do the right thing. I’ve been through a lot in my 32 years on this planet and I’ve always persevered. When I lost a turn or was sent straight to jail and couldn’t collect my $200, I continued to roll the dice.


I have been employed since I was 14 years old. When I was a telemarketer in my youth, I generally put big numbers on the board. I was competitive and even though we goofed off quite a bit, I really cared about contributing to the company. I’m sure you appreciated my hard work when I called to interrupt your dinner, right?

mad cat

In my most recent job of 7 years, I would sometimes work until 3AM because I’m an overachiever/perfectionist and I was sooooo afraid to fail. I gave my all. Blood, sweat, tears, missed soccer games, missed social outings with family/friends. Relationships suffered, my blood pressure sky rocketed, but I always gave my all.

I’m not choosing not to work. I’m a prideful person and I want to be normal again. I have days where I know I COULD work again but there is far too much inconsistency in how my body and my brain are acting at the moment. Few and far between. Monday could be fabulous and I could feel so accomplished for getting tasks done and enjoying quality time with my family. My thoughts might be normalized and things are great. Tuesday I wake up, fall down the stairs, realize that I forgot most of Sunday’s events and conversations, feel heavy, have body aches comparable to the really crappy flu, and have thoughts of the world without me in it. That is life these days. Thank God for my family.


Bipolar is not a choice. Getting the flu is not a choice. Getting cancer is not a choice. Depression is not a choice. Chemical imbalances in the brain are not a choice. Don’t pity me. Don’t judge me. Treat me as you’d like to be treated.

God Bless.


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