What goes up must come down.

We had sausages on bread for dinner tonight. Again. I think our family has gone through twelve kilos of sausages in the past three weeks. Its cheap, the kids actually eat it and it doesn’t take too much effort to cook after I have been at work. My husband though, sees this as an entree and gets frustrated at the lack of the home-cooked meals like lasagne, steak and veges and chicken parmi that he had grown accustomed to. So the guilt of not ‘providing’ our family with a decent healthy, filling and effort-filled meal is starting to eat away at me. I just keep reminding myself that it is all we can afford at the moment, its all the effort I can put in and at least they are getting fed. (To be fair, I did manage a pork roast and Lemon chicken through the week on days that I didn’t work.)

So there’s food guilt.

I had a follow up appointment with my psych on monday to discuss the progress I am having on my increased medication. I didn’t feel any different, and still felt the frustration of not ‘getting better’ after being sick for a few months. Surely I should feel a little better? The guilt of not being able to sit with my son to do his homework without becoming irritated or only being able to handle being out in the park with them for half an hour before I desperately need to go home and rest is getting to me.

So there’s mummy guilt.

My psych asked how my husband is coping. He’s not. He is stepping up and doing dad duties where I am failing my mummy duties- reading books, cooking dinners and doing homework with the boys. He lets me go and sit on my friends couch at 8pm when I just need to get out of the house (even more impressive when my ‘get away from it all’ friend is a male) without question and lets me go to sleep at 8:30pm while he plays Xbox. We don’t have much time together these days, but I need him more than ever. Many times I have cried to him “I’m so sorry that I’m so broken, please don’t leave me, i’m trying to get better.”

So there is wife guilt.

I had an ‘up’ day on Wednesday. I woke up with energy and went to work feeling more myself than I had in months. I finally felt like my meds were doing something productive. That night I went shopping with feral kids and although I yelled at them in the car during an argument with Mr 7, I didn’t feel any form of rage or irritation build up in my chest like I have for the past few months. I went and sat on my mates couch again for a few hours while my husband had a friend over to watch the Origin. I got home at 9pm and went to bed as not to disturb my sleep pattern.

On Thursday I woke up and knew something wasn’t right. I told my husband before he went to work that I wasn’t feeling great- I felt exhausted. I texted a workmate and said that I needed her to be my buffer at work today, so that I didn’t end up a blubbering mess. I told another friend that I desperately wanted to call in sick. He encouraged me to, but I felt as though I would be pissing off my duty manager if I did so simply due to a broken head. So I spent my post-school-run morning sitting on the mattress on the floor until I had to leave and go to work. It was hard. I got to work and my brain physically hurt. I was spaced out and felt ‘trapped’ in my own head. I moved slowly, I couldn’t engage in conversation and I wanted to cry at the thought of having a busy lunch shift.

I told my bosses that I wasn’t’ feeling great and may need a few time outs through the day. They have been absolutely outstanding through this whole thing. Although many people don’t understand how mental illness can affect your work, thankfully my bosses know first hand and have made me feel very safe in admitting I am not coping. But at 11am I felt the need to sit down. And I couldn’t get up. The only movement I could do was to sob. I felt so physically fatigued it was a struggle to find my boss and tell him I needed to leave. I was so tired. I came home and didn’t even make it to the bed, I walked inside, took my uniform off and plonked down on the mattress in the floor. Where I stayed for four and a half hours- in the same position. When the babysitter bought the kids home at 4pm she awoke me from a two hour nap. I felt bad for asking her to work when it wasn’t necessary- but in a way I was glad she did- it enabled me to rest and sleep. That afternoon I wrote a text to my boss apologising for being so flaky and unreliable. He said to not even apologise, to just get better. But the guilt of feeling like I am letting people down and burning bridges is difficult to live with.

So there is work guilt.

I have started to shift my friendship dynamics, not feeling like texting certain people, not knowing what to say to others, oversharing or overtexting with other friends, bailing on plans and turning up on peoples doorsteps just to sit silently on their couch. I am an unreliable and moody friend, worried that I am pushing people away while I feel like an unsociable bitch. But honestly, I have barely enough energy to care about my own life, it takes effort to care about other peoples. My desire to be included in gossip circles and know what’s going on around me is diminished- I just don’t care.

So there’s friend guilt.

Today was a good day. I got through work with no major hiccups and did my job well. I got home and had a conversation with my husband. But the whole week has been constant waves of ups and downs. More downs, by far, but I am hopeful that one day I will have a steady stream of ‘ups’. I am not my bipolar. I am struggling with guilt that is a result of being sick. Thats what I am- I have a mental ‘illness’ and it makes my life difficult in ways that create guilt. But my family is getting fed, the bills are getting paid, my husband hasn’t packed his bag and walked out, my children still love me (my daughter is on my lap cuddling me as I type) I still have friends that check in on me and some are actually closer and my job is still safe.

All the guilt is in my head. Everyone assures me I shouldn’t feel guilty for any of the above things but it isn’t that easy. ‘Harden up’ has been uttered numerous times but it is hard when you live inside your own head, overanalysing everything and thinking that the problem is you. That your boss is in a bad mood because you are taking so many days off, that your partner is tired because you are sleeping through the crying child, that your childrens bad moods are a result of your lack of parenting. I need to remind myself that there are other factors that are at play, that I am not the central problem.

 

I need to stop feeling guilty for having bipolar depression.

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