My life and times dealing with bipolar II disorder

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Finally a Shower

Well, it finally happened. Managed to drag my sorry ass into the shower today after a 3 day hiatus. One of those "symptoms" people don't talk about. I always think it's peculiar how such small things become so enormous in a deep depressive stage. I know it's a textbook symptom, but come on. How difficult can a shower really be?? Some water, some soap....and ta da, you're done!

Washed a load of clothes so there was something fresh to wear in preparation. Psyched myself up and it still took all day before I got in. And for some odd reason, getting out is just hard. Drying off and getting dressed is just too many steps sometimes, so I'm in the shower until I'm a prune, sometimes until the hot water runs out and I'm forced to get out.

It's one of those small signs to gauge how I'm doing. Other signs for me include crossing the street without paying much attention (unless the dog is with me, then I'm very careful). Too much/too little sleep. Wanting to drown myself in food or I can't even bear the thought of eating it. It's all the typical crap. Stuff I could work around reasonably well before, but has been amplified over the past year. Not sure why, but am still on the magical quest for the medication cocktail that is going to fix everything. I personally don't really believe it exists. I would be happy to be functional in a dependable way, that's all.

But hey, I got in the shower. I delight in the small victories.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Good for you, Jane!
Happiness for me some days, is not worrying about breathing or swallowing.

Missy said...

It is delusional for people to say the little things we do to take care of ourselves and others are unimportant. The fact that not doing them is one of the first symptoms of depression illuminates their importance.

Sometimes I hate having to do the laundry or the dishes--I'll just have to do it again tomorrow and no one seems to appreciate it. And yet, what happens when I don't do those things? Life becomes almost unbearable.

So I try to turn them into a spiritual exercise. I used to get mad at my mom when I would complain about something and she would say, "offer it up." Now I see the wisdom of that.

Damn. I'm turning into my mother.