To the best of my memory, which isn’t very good right now,
it started about a week ago, on April 8th. I start noticing it when
the days feel lighter. There’s less hate and anger inside. Then the more common
and noticeable signs show up. I talk a lot. I don’t need to sleep. I’m
productive and focused. My appetite is low. My sex drive is high. Timing wise I
think I stopped biting my nails 3 week ago. I’m hoping someday I can map
everything so I can see the warning signs. I like graphs and charts and lists
of data. I like organizing and rearranging. It’s data collection I’m no good
at.
He writes computer programs sometimes for fun. He’s working
on a task management program right now. I’ve thought about doing some research
and forming a program to keep track of signs and feelings and moods. Then it
could be an app. Maybe it could help more people than just me. Maybe I’m
unqualified for this. I’m not a doctor. I only know myself. But I could read
more… study.
The essential problem is getting me to input and input
accurately. Sometimes it’s clear how I’m feeling but that’s not the majority of
the time. Most of the time I don’t notice where I’m at until I’ve been there
for awhile. And depression stops you from doing a lot of daily routines,
keeping track of moods would definitely be one of the first to go, right behind
flossing.
Yesterday we watched Sylvia. It was on our netflix list
because I was on a Gwenyth Paltrow kick and Danial Craig was an added bonus. It
was about Sylvia Plath who I knew very little about before the movie. In the
beginning of the movie, I turned to him and said “We should be poets. We should
rent a cabin on the water and write poetry all summer.” He cautioned me that
the ending of the movie might not be as romantic. He was right. She was
tormented by herself and ended up taking her own life. Today I’ve spent most of
my free time internetting her and her family. It lead me to the connection
between her and bipolar disorder. It was apparent in the movie but I still
looked it up.
I get very serious when I see movies portraying characters
with bipolar. It’s like I need to look around to see if anyone is watching my
reaction. It’s a feeling that normal people won’t understand, only I will. It’s
also a feeling that I want to keep it close to me. I want to digest all there
is. I’ll probably start buying up Sylvia Plath’s books soon. Then the
biographies.
Maybe I’ll even scribble down some secret poetry.
