A few weeks ago, I was on top of the world. I built this site, was writing every day, reading two to three books a week, and just being productive. My first newsletter was written, and I started tracking social media metrics. I was just having fun and loving being alive.
Now, I find myself with so much to do, but no motivation to do it. I need to write, read, plan out social media. I need to promote my books. No matter how hard I try to reach deep within me to pull out some semblance of motivation, nothing ever comes up. I find myself with a blog and no content planned for the next month. My mind is racing as I begin to hear the familiar voices telling me I’m a failure.
So what happened? What brought me from the top of the world to rock bottom in a matter of weeks?
Bipolar.
See, in periods of mania, I feel like I’m unstoppable. Motivation aplenty graces my life. I spend money like it is a bottomless pit. Most of the time, it isn’t things that I need or things that I really want. It’s more spur-of-the-moment purchases that add up over time. I get so much accomplished during these periods, some of my best work comes out of it. I could take on the world.
But then a switch gets flipped. Suddenly, the motivation is gone and my anxieties are more relevant. My anxiety leads me on a journey every single day of what needs to be done, what I need to accomplish to be successful. The motivation just isn’t there. At the end of the day, I berate myself for being a failure. “That’s all I’ll ever be,” I tell myself over and over again.
The sad realization of overspending hits me as I struggle to put together a plan to bring myself out of a financial pit I drove myself into. The anxiety creeps up and plays me every possible scenario of money woes. I lose my car; I lose my job; I lose my house; I lose my family. I always lose.
It’s a relentless cycle that always haunts me. I’m constantly worried that a slew of depression will follow my good mood. I’m looking over my shoulder and watching the wake of my destruction, but I can’t stop my feet from moving forward. Time after time, I overanalyze what I’ve done. I hate myself for it.
Time after time, I’ve held in these feelings and thoughts. I kept them to myself. I didn’t want to feel like a burden or a stressor to any of my friends and family who were dealing with their own stress. I felt like I was bothersome with my worries and my pain, that they were all irrational thoughts and people would dismiss me as crazy or attention-seeking.
Finally, I had to realize that I couldn’t do this myself. Every time I fell into the darkness, it wasn’t until I reached my hand out for help that I was pulled out. Still, I ignored what helped me the most time after time. Until this time. I reached out for help as soon as the feelings of dread came back. I got a doctor’s appointment sooner than I had any of the times trying to fight it myself.
So glad you’re reaching out for the help you need. There’s no shame in needing help.
Bipolar Disorder is tough to fight alone but having a support system like medical professionals or even friends and family you can turn to can make a world of a difference. Best of luck to you! 🙏
I am glad you reached out for help, and also you should be proud of how far you have made it already with consistent blogging and newsletters. With help, everything becomes more manageable eventually, so kudos on taking the first steps.
I have the same problem/symptom (?)… except my diagnosis is clinical depression. I tried to deal with it on my own for a long time but it got to the point where I wasn’t even getting anything done at work. I’m on ADHD meds now (in addition to my depression meds). It actually helps.