Day 2: who do I talk to?

Day 2 of quitting Facebook has been…lonely.

I work for myself, and most of the magic happens in my home office.  What I realized quickly when I went full time years ago, is that it is lonely to have no coworkers.

I quickly found my way to communicate with others and get an almost immediate response with Facebook.  After all, who needs coworkers and banter at the water cooler when you have 200+ friends to share your day with and tell jokes?

But after a few years of only having digital friends to entertain me during the day, I somehow crossed a line.  Instead of sharing funny jokes and happy pictures, I began sharing my gripes and complaints about clients and projects.  So much so that two of my friends (relatively new friends) pulled me aside in person and told me they didn’t approve of my conduct.  I am thankful for their concern, and quite frankly their bravery in being honest.  It’s one of the first things that led me to wanting to log out for good.

Anyway, today I was lonely and that’s what I noticed most.  I’m going to need to find a way to calm this lonely feeling in a productive way.  Because I can’t text my boyfriend all day, I’ll drive him mad.

-M

Day 1: I had to look once…

Day 1 in the Facebook experiment.  As a self-prescribed social media addict I can say it’s annoying trying to quit.

I’ve posted only one or two articles from my new administrator account for my business page, and they aren’t getting any views.  I’m worried that because my new account isn’t the owner of the business page it’s not posting correctly.  So to calm my worry about this potential issue I had to log back in under the “real” me.  To be honest I still can’t tell you if posting to the business in the new way is affecting performance or not.  Facebook is so damn confusing and I think they do it on purpose.

I’m noticing that I’ve grabbed my phone quite often throughout the day to for no reason.  I assume the reason I’m grabbing it is because I’m looking to “check” Facebook. But since the app is not on my phone and I’ll soon be “gone” I just put it down.  I have checked other forms of social media on my phone more often than I usually do.  Namely Instagram. I think my brain is searching for distraction in the form of stimulation, which is kind of pathetic when I think about it.  

After dinner I’m doing the dishes and I’m thinking about my friends on Facebook.  What are they saying, how was their day?My book club friends might not remember to tell me which book we are reading this month…should I log in and tell them not to forget me!?  No.  I can simply text one of them and find out.

Bedtime was easier than I thought it would be, and I probably slept better too.  I didn’t have anything to scroll through for an hour while laying in the dark.  I probably fell asleep within 15 minutes.

Anxiety is still there, but I made it through the day!

-M

30 days of real life.

Social media is a killer for me.  I have bipolar.  Sometimes I’m normal, sometimes I’m depressed, and sometimes I’m a total shit-show on the inside.  My problem is that my use of social media reflects quite clearly what is going on in my head to me.  It is an outlet.  But to others, it may seem like I’m a little too invested.  Quiting has been on my mind, but it gives me anxiety to think about not knowing what is going on.

I made my decision to quit Facebook on Oct 29th during an incredibly intense panic attack.  My boyfriend and I were having a small fight, which is one of my triggers, and I was losing my mind.  He wasn’t feeling up for talking so he went to bed. (We don’t live together.)  I was obsessed with keeping myself distracted from my anxiety to avoid the bad cycle I get into, and mindlessly scrolling Facebook was the only way I could do it.  I was a mess.  I was sobbing uncontrollably for hours doing everything I could NOT to post or comment and it hit me.  This is a dangerous crutch.

So I disabled my account.  Which, I will admit, caused me some more anxiety.

I own a small business and not only is it a good idea to have a Facebook page for your business, but I have a marketing firm that I pay lots of money every month, some of which goes to Facebook.  So as much as I want away, I have to keep my business page from turning off.

October 31st

I found out that when I deactivated my account, my business page went with it.  In order to keep the business page up, a person with a Facebook account has to be the owner.  I refused to let Facebook keep me completely trapped, so I re-activated my account and used a secondary email to create a new personal page just so I could have the business page remain active, under the new “rogue me.”

However, in doing so I realized that I am the administrator on another page as well as the creator of some groups and an event I’m hosting on November 5th.

I transferred admin status to my new “rogue” account so that all my groups and pages won’t die without me.  After all, I still want my friends to be able to enjoy those groups.  But I could not transfer ownership of the event.  

So until November 5th I still have my Facebook account.  But I have removed the app from my phone and have ensured I only log in from my new “rogue” account to post things relevant to my business.

Each day of this month I want to write about how I feel, what I notice and experience, and comment on what it’s like to live disconnected after quite an awful addiction.  Then I’ll decide if it’s worth getting back on again.

I will have a new category for these posts, and each day will be logged there.

-M

I love you, but…

The number 1 reason I chose ECT is because relationship failure is the among the most reported issue that bipolar people complain about.  I thought I could erase these things that make men un-love me, but it didn’t work. 

I can’t give you any reason to be with me, or love me. But I can give you all the reasons most people don’t want to be with me. I’ve heard it all before, and you think I don’t know, but I do.  Or at the very least I can imagine…

Anxiety is a confusing and scary thing that I don’t even understand to it’s full extent. I can’t imagine what I must look like to someone like you on the outside, so I’m not even going to try. All I know is that when I have this feeling to others I can be cold, mean, irritated… or I repress it entirely and run away quickly without explanation acting like it’s all okay, when really it’s not. To me, on the inside, I am fighting to make sense of my surroundings.  Staring at the floor, out the window, at a clock – something I can focus on and breathe with.  Something that is sitting still or feels comfortable.  I’m unaware that my need to escape might hurt your feelings or ruin your plans.  But I do it because I have to get out and I have to feel safe and I don’t want you or anyone else to see me have a melt down.

Then the paranoia sets in. “What will they all say?” “What do they think of me?” “I am a terrible person.” Humiliation, embarrassment, and regret hits like a wave. This is when the panic starts to come. To you this looks like bombardment and constant question asking, lots of texts, and you’ve told me it’s frustrating. I am sure it is. To me it feels like I’m just trying to clarify so that I can understand what happened in the early stages of the event because it helps me work through my current pain and torment. My heart is racing, my eyes are crying, and I’m so damn tired I could fall over.  I just need to know – everything, every little detail. I ruminate and review the whole thing in my head hundreds of times to make sure I understand.  I need you to help me understand.  What did people say, what did thy do? How about me, how about you? I’m sorry.

How about anger?  Let’s give that one a try. Sometimes things can be going just right and for no reason at all I can explode over the simplest mistake or slight inconvenience. To you it looks like I’m raging about nothing, a monster is being unleashed out of nowhere. But to me I don’t even realize I’m having an anger outburst until many moments after it has past. Cue the paranoia and anxiety again, because now I’m ashamed and worried that I’ve lost all of your respect.

The ugliest of all the beasts is depression and it’s the biggest liar I know. You see, depression tells me that I am no good, that I am tired, worthless, crazy, ugly, unsatisfying, and would be better off dead than burdening you with my anxiety, paranoia, anger, depression, and mania. To you depression will look like laziness and crying in bed all day for no reason. You will think I’ve become a different person because I don’t want to do fun activities or have sex much anymore. But to me it feels like I suddenly weigh 2,000 pounds which makes it hard to move. I’m always cold, never hungry, and I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, let alone think about how you might feel – and I’m sorry.

Oh, but the hypo-mania can be so bright! This is the real reason you think you love me. See, this is the best version of me multiplied by 1,000 of my best selves. To you I am energetic, full of a drive for life, love, sex, art, music, and I’m always up for exciting venues and spontaneous adventures! To me, I feel like I could rule the world, I can’t keep track of my thoughts because I’m so excited and I want to finish everything tonight-right now-this minute-let’s do it!! This is the most fun, and the most dangerous. This is where you are most likely to lose me. Because as soon as this ends it ends straight into a depression so deep that I’ve never survived without help from the hospital. It seems so beautiful, to be so high. But this is the deadliest and scariest place to fall from. The higher the top, the more threatening a fall it will be.

This illness is hard. It doesn’t go away. I can’t often think of others when I’m stuck in any one of these places. It’s not fair to you, and that will never get easier. I always put myself first because sometimes I’m not in the right mind to do anything other than just breathe and look at the damn floor. I will yell at you and then immediately need physical affection because the yelling is more an expression of my fears than it is anger at you. I will take my treatments and medicines as much as I can, but that doesn’t mean it will ever go away or that any of these things will change. I never know what tomorrow is going to be like, I only know that:

• Routine is good – the more things stay the same, the better I can handle minor upsets.
• Change is triggering and it can trigger any one of these phases. 
• There is no cure. 
• My life will be shorter than yours. 
• It hurts some days – physically, to my core. 
• I love it other days – without it I wouldn’t be me. 
• I don’t know how you feel. You don’t know how I feel or how I’ll react and it may always be that way.
• I am trying, even when it looks like I’m being a selfish little bitch.
• I feel very deeply.
• I live every day knowing that someday I may say or do something that hurts you so badly you will chose to walk away forever.  This constantly terrifies me.
• I will love you anyway – even at the risk of losing, yet again.

Again, I can’t tell you why or how you should love me.  Or if you should at all.  But what I do know is that “I love you” should never be followed with “but.” If I had a penny for every time I’ve heard 

“I love you, but…”  

It breaks my heart, longing only to hear

“But, I love you…” in it’s place.

-M

Let’s not say ‘goodbye,’ let’s say ‘until we meet again…’

I’ve been contemplating writing this for months now, knowing that the end was looming, but I haven’t been able to figure out how to begin or how to tell it.  Its a complicated thing this love, and I just have to get it right, for her.

My entry into adulthood wasn’t the smoothest chain of events, to say the least.  But this isn’t a story about my life, its a story about my dog.  Simply put, I was deeply affected by trauma, sank into the first of many deep depressions I would ever experience and managed to come up with a way out of it.  At a time when I felt like nothing was worth living for, let alone getting out of bed for, I decided that maybe a dog would give me a reason.  I had lost deeply and I wanted someone to take care of desperately, someone to love.  Sometimes, even in our most irrational of minds, we can make brilliant decisions.

I went to the shelter looking for something, anything that would speak to me.  As I passed rows and rows of big dogs and scrappy looking dogs, I began to think it was a hopeless and stupid quest.  What good would a dog do me anyway?  I turned the corner and passed by a kennel sandwiched by two huge dogs, to find two little paws and the tip of a nose sticking out from underneath the gate.  I crouched down, and heard the tiniest, quiet, little broken “oooo-oooh” sound coming from her.  I didn’t even know what she looked like yet, but I knew she and I shared the same heart.  I had the staff bring her out and fell in absolute love with her at first sight.

She was feisty, scrappy, energetic, and terrified, but still full of licks and love all the same.  Another family had put their names in for her ahead of me and I was devastated, but she was the one I wanted so I waited.  A few days later I got the call that the other family had a small child and miniature pinchers would not be adopted to families with small children, she was going home with me!  After my friend and I staged a false number to give the shelter to convince them that my “landord” would allow me to get a dog I took her home and realized quickly that I was in for more than I had bargained.

Not only was she NOT housebroken, she was a little Tasmanian-devil-ball full of energy!  She was a master at flipping her kennel upside down, sliding the base out and escaping while I was at work or school, she could open doors, climb shelves, and eat rotten trash with an iron stomach.  Not once did she get sick from something she ate from the garbage, not once did she get hurt climbing the shelves of my pantry while I was away.  This dog was indestructible, and determined.  Her main objective for the majority of her life has been to find a way to get past me and out the front door.  I have spent hours chasing her miles and miles only to find that the only way to get her back is to let her roam for a while, she always came back.  After all, there really is no dog more motivated by food, she wouldn’t dare be gone for dinner.  I’ve never truly understood her desire to escape.  She was the only dog at the dog park that would walk the perimeter along the fence line as if she was a prisoner.  At the same time I can identify with that need to run, for most of my twenties I was on the run; from pain, confusion, anger, my diagnosis.

As someone living with bipolar I can tell you that I have learned over the years that stability is the key to staying alive.  This dog has been the only stable thing in my life- ever.  For 14 years, my entire adult life, she has been in the background.  She’s licked every tear from my cheek, been in every relationship with me, been in every apartment and state I lived in. She’s seen me sick, happy, healthy, depressed, manic, full of fear and anxiety.  She’s always been waiting, with no judgement, upon my return from each of my many hospitalizations.  When I lost my first baby she let me squeeze her hard and cry all over her.  When I lost the others, she laid with me while I recovered each time.  When I had to leave my ex and move back in with my parents, she was the only thing I took with me that I had before I met him. When I had ECT she stayed in bed with me on my off-treatment days.  Same routine, same energy, same love.

She has been the ONE thing in my life that has never changed, been only mine, the one thing no one could ever take away from me.  She is the only one that knows it all, the whole story; she helped me write it.

I knew this day would come, I just didn’t think that 14 years could go by so quickly.  My little indestructible baby girl is now fragile, confused, and scared to be outside.  She still loves to eat, but that is about all she loves to do.  She isn’t the daring and spunky alpha-dog that she used to be.  She now sleeps under the desk and wants nothing to do with her little brother-dog.  She can’t stand on her own most of the time, and when she does she doesn’t move.  There are about 3 hours of every day when her blood sugar is just right and you can get some action out of her, but it isn’t much since she can’t see well or hear you calling.  Tomorrow is going to be full of sadness, and the most awful, imminent decision.

Life is hard and full of shitty decisions we have to make.  I made a terrible decision when I was 18 that greatly affected my future and destroyed my faith in a lot of things: men, love, fairness, family.  But out of that decision was born the decision to take her in, and I think that is how God works.  If it weren’t for her a lot of things in my life would have been different.  Maybe I would have lived in student housing in Nevada instead of an apartment and not ended up coming back home.  Maybe I would have sent in that application for the JET program and lived in Japan for a year without fear of losing her.  But maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have survived that first dark time in my life- and that is what I really think her story is about: she was always my light, when there was darkness.

When you adopt a dog, you know you are doing something good.  You know you are saving a life.  But what I’ve only just begun to understand is that I had that whole concept backward.

I didn’t save her life, she saved mine.

-M

Humbled

How did I come to assume that remission was going to last forever on its own?
I slowly stopped running about a year ago. I was still fine so I figured: it’s okay as long I am still doing some activity.

I became too busy for yoga about 6 months ago. I still felt somewhat okay so I thought: I’m still sleeping well and doing my acupuncture, plus I hardly miss my meds.

I’m sure you see where this is going. And it snuck up on me slowly, over the course of about 14 months.  

Flash to now: I got on the elliptical at the rec center, barely able to do 20 minutes because I’m too depressed. I slept in until 11:30 this morning (it’s Sunday, but still this is not okay for me). I have bailed on over 5 different plans to socialize in public in the past week, missed some meetings, forgot to call some people back…and had a full blown panic attack in the car outside of a restaurant where a friend was waiting to hang out all because it wasn’t a place I knew of…things are less than desirable.

I have all new health insurance and the mental health coverage is terrible. I will have to choose between therapy and acupuncture with how much it costs and I’m not sure which is the better choice, but I know I need both so I must budget tighter and find a way.

Running again is my last ditch effort to clean up this mess before it melts all over the place. 20 mins of elevated heart rate 3 times/week is what they order for depression. And I’ve found it helps my anxiety too. 

You tie one shoe at a time, put one foot in front of the other, and slowly it will begin to heal itself. It always does.

I am ashamed that I became so complacent to think I didn’t have to keep up these routines I worked for so long to build. I’m ashamed that I’ve let people down, and without reason or explanation either. After all, are you supposed to say “Sorry I didn’t make it this morning to our meeting, I was too busy laying under the covers crying because I feel like my heart is made of lead, and I’m not sure I’ll live if I leave my bed.” I feel terribly that my boyfriend has been made to explain for me, in certain situations.  

There is no way to go back and fix any of these things now. I’ve learned in my life that people will drop off and you just have to keep moving forward with the ones you’ve got and head toward the ones you have yet to meet. And that’s okay.

From now on, no matter what other sports I partake in I must run a minimum of 2 times per week, and do yoga once. I must sleep 9 hours EVERY night, and not skip a day of medication. No alcohol in the winter and no caffeine in the summer. No watching TV shows that trigger anxiety, and I must take extra time and rest when attending overstimulating events with large crowds.  

Routines are the foundation for which remission is built upon. I just had some holes I needed to fill this time. But next time, I may not be so lucky.

Mostly I am sad that I have to start my remission clock over again. I only ever made it 2 and a half years. That’s the longest I’ve ever been stable. But maybe this time will be longer.

-M

Those who fail to plan…

Last time this happened I could afford my therapy copay.  Now I have different insurance and I can’t afford to see my counselor. 

So now I have no rational person to help me make a plan. I need a plan.

I’m depressed as shit.  It’s been onset for about two weeks, but I just wrote it off as overwork and fatigue.

So I’m sitting here in Cold Stone drinking an ice cream shake because I wanted to leave the house and this was the safest place I could think to come to.  Ice cream never does me wrong.  That’s a fact. 

I don’t know what triggered it this time.  And I can’t afford to pay my psych his hourly rate either.  I had acupuncture today, and I’ve been starting my running routine again, eating three or more times per day, and getting way to much sleep-of course.

So here is the best I can do, without professional help, my plan (as my therapist might help me to create, with my own “voice” inserted for emphasis):

-No alcohol, for at least 2 weeks, maybe a month.  NONE, and I mean it.  Not even a taste of a drop, of a drop…

-Medication every day.  Every day.  Let me repeat: “every fucking day.” 

-No naps, in bed later than 10pm and out before 9am.  Period, end of story.  No laying around on the sofa all day either.  None.

-Run twice per week.  Period, end of story.  There is no sitting and waiting for this monster to catch you again, you don’t have that luxury this time.  You better run, and you better run fast as fuck.

-No leaving the state.  Hell, no leaving the Metro Area, for one month. 

-No major life, or business, decisions for one month.

-No spending more than $25 on one item,  and no purchases over $100 for a month.

-Find a temporary psych until I can see my old doc again, and perhaps a temporary therapist.

-Stay away from emotional conversations, even if you think you are in the right.  Just promise to “sleep on it” before you say anything.

Seems like a decent plan, and it was rather cathartic creating this.  My cake-batter chocolate shake is now officially a melted mess,my tears are gone, and I no longer feel like driving as far as my car can go…  I don’t know why this plan sounds so simple, yet almost impossible to achieve.  Maybe I need a giant picture of Dr. Mandal hanging above my mirror telling me if I don’t follow this plan I’m going to end up back in his operating room awaiting my next ECT treatment?  That man could make me do anything as an alternative to more ECT…

One thing I know for sure, I feel better now having done it.  It’s time to get to work.  

-M

Constant battle

I wouldn’t have done some of the best things in my life if I weren’t bipolar, in fact I’m pretty sure I would never have started my business. But some days I wish I was just like everyone else. Today is one of those days. Fighting just to get out of bed, yet still totally in love with my life.
-M

All good things must come to an end.

Relapse.

Nothing bad.  Nothing dangerous.  Nothing scary.

But it sure ain’t good.

I blew through my entire savings account in 7 months.  I have no consistent paycheck, and I am waiting on client invoices.  I am scared. I am broke. I am disappointed in myself-again.

I stopped remembering my medication again.  So yeah, there’s that.

I have had at least 4 full blown panic attacks in the last month.  On the train, at union station, during meetings, at a bar…

Breathe in – breathe out.

Start over.

Relapse doesn’t mean the hospital unless I continue to fall down the rabbit hole.  

The positive: I’ve learned to recognize relapse in the beginning.  

It’s what I do about it now that will shape my survival.

-M

Depression creeps when the sun sleeps…

Here I sit at the near end of summer and I caught myself giving some advice to a loved one.  “Watch the depression,” I said, “The season change is about to come.”

How had I not thought of this for myself yet?  Every year I tend to do much better in the fall when the over-stimulating light of the summer sun begins to wane earlier and earlier each evening.  However if I am not careful, I can easily become depressed, like so many others that face bipolar every day.

One day it’s sleeping in a little bit too late, the next day it’s sleeping in a lot bit too late, and if you aren’t careful three weeks go by and you are sleeping 12 hours a night every single night.

Some symptoms that I think are important to look for in yourself and others that you may be helping cope are as follows.

Loss of interest in social activities 

I don’t want to go book club, or even read this horrible stupid awful book.  Why on earth would I want to go to that AM seminar that I loved going to all summer, and have to force myself to meet new people?   Uh, go running with my buddy? How about I don’t and just lay down early tonight instead? (For the 5^th time this week)

No motivation to do hobbies

Write my blog? No.  Sketch?  Not feeling it.  Why on earth would I go harvest veggies from the garden?  I spent all summer just growing them.   How about I practice a little zoning out staring out the window and feeling sorry for myself instead?

No motivation to do or go to work

I can work on it later, I am self employed.  If I get my shift covered I can put in vacation hours for this week and still make money.  I hardly call in sick; one day isn’t going to get me in trouble.  I’ll get back in the saddle tomorrow, I promise.

Changes in appetite

Mmmm… I’ll eat later.  I have had enough calories today.  Wait, when was the last time I ate?  Yesterday?  Oh well, I am really comfortable here on the sofa, I’ll get to eat something before bed.

OR

                Food, food, food!  I want all of the food.  Artichoke hearts and pickles and bananas and chocolate?  Sounds like what I need in my belly right now!  Maybe a whole bag of cheetos will be fine just this once.  I’ll be better tomorrow; I am just so fucking hungry!

Inability to fall asleep or stay asleep

Just one more episode… I am fine at getting up to the alarm. I have five alarms set; it would take a moron to sleep through that!  Oh shit, I have to be up in 3 hours!  I guess I could just take a nap after work or in between clients tomorrow.  It will work out.

Inability to get the fuck out of bed at the right time

Oh no!  I slept through five alarms?!  How on earth is that possible?  Well, I am already late so I might as well take another hour so I can be super well rested for the afternoon and get a lot accomplished. (And then accomplish nothing.)

It may seem or feel so innocent at the time, but these tiny little habits can be the start of a really bad storm brewing.  This is what I have done to start making sure I am okay during the fall time change.

Monitor your medication compliance

Are you taking your meds on time every time?  Really?  REALLY?

Ok, just checking.

And if you aren’t, fucking DO IT ALREADY!  Figure out a new method, rhythm, routine.  Have someone help you, ask your doctor if you can take it during a different part of the day or night.  Do whatever it takes.  This is the simplest and best way to start getting back, or staying, on track.

Figure it out.  NOW.

Amp up the exercise!

I put it on my calendar, I run with buddies, I go to more yoga, I schedule hikes, and I refuse to let myself fall below 2-3 times per week.  Exercise, even just walking at a good pace, gets your heart beating and the good endorphins flowing!  I am no doctor, but this shit is the best natural medication on earth.

Not only does it work faster than any antidepressant it is free as shit to walk, run, or mosey on down the damn street.  Hell if you live in an apartment, they might have a gym.  If they don’t have a gym and you are low on funds, and live in a bad part of town you can walk up and down the freaking stairs and hallways of your apartment building.

MOVE YOUR BODY.  I swear it will help.

I sleep better, eat more consistently, wake up without an alarm clock, and am in a better mood when I am running, walking, yoga-ing, and moving!  This is not going to go for everyone out there, but I have been able to come completely off of antidepressants since I started adding exercise (which you will read all about in part 5).

Make additional doctor and therapy appointments

I go usually once per month to my therapist, and once every two months to my psychiatrist, when I am well.  When I know the season is about to change I double this frequency just for a couple visits.

I know it costs more money, and you might think you are perfectly fine, but I consider this to be insurance.  Three or four extra visits to the doctor is a whole hell of a lot cheaper than a 10 day inpatient stay at the psych hospital, and it could save your damn life.

If you are on a sparser schedule with your doctor, like once every three to six months, then maybe you can just plan to add additional appointments at both the spring and the fall time change.  It will be worth it, in the long run.

In past years I have had the doctor make medication adjustments at this time in preparation for the season change that really helped.  So, just trust me.

And if you don’t love your doctor, get a freaking doctor that you love and would recommend!  If you wouldn’t send your best friend to him or her, then why the fuck are you seeing them?  Get on it.  Get to it.  Make the appointments ahead of time and be well!

Sleep

There are a million things you can do to get adequate sleep, but it is really difficult to wake during a depressive time.  If you need a sleep aid, talk to your doctor.

I love yoga, meditation, acupuncture, reading, bubble baths, and various other things in my life consistently that help me with regulating my sleep.  Try everything, make a list, check off what doesn’t work, and find what does.

Some things take time.  If you are exercising, it will take a couple of weeks before you are sleeping consistently.  The same can be said of acupuncture and mediation.  The key with everything is consistency.

Take a break from booze

Most of you probably know that it is bad to drink and be bipolar, and if this is news to you, then you can read all about it in the section on alcohol.

We all make our own personal choices once we leave the doctor’s office.  I choose to share my choice with my doctor, but one thing I know is that alcohol messes up your sleep schedule and your mood.

So, if you are someone who drinks alcohol, maybe give it a rest during the changing season.  Alcohol isn’t going anywhere.  It will still be there once you overcome this change, I promise.  And you will be all the better for it.

I personally like to order a sprite with a splash of cranberry and a cherry on top, so that I look like I have a cocktail when I go out booze free.  If you want something more manly, just order a cola.  No one is going to ask you what you are drinking.  Then you can fit in a bit more, and save some money.

Inform your friends and family

Not only your 2am person has to be in the know here.  You don’t even have to tell your friends and family you are feeling depressed or down.  Just let them know that in the fall, your mood is likely to change because of the change in the amount of daylight and other social factors like the holidays.

Maybe just ask them to let you know if you are getting bitchy, or mopey, or declining every single social invitation.  This doesn’t mean that if you say no once, they have the right to interrogate you, but if it becomes a regular occurrence they will notice it before you do.  Invite them to share this with you so you can get well!

Make time to yourself

Blog, write a damn book, sketch, watch trashy TV, read a book, watch the sunset, go have coffee, take yourself shopping, play some video games, surf the internet and social media, go to a concert, or whatever.  Just do some shit that you like to do.

Tell people no.  You need some ‘you’ time to refresh and rejuvenate.  Finish that painting, write that song, drive to that far off destination, and make yourself your most important person.  Because you are!

In the fall we start getting back to obligations with school, holidays, events, etc.  It is easy to get bogged way the hell down and forget that we can’t contribute if we aren’t well.

So go do what you need to do in order to be well!

Here is the point to all of this.  Whether you are new to your diagnosis, or if you have been running your show for many years now, these little things will creep up on you.  But so what?  Don’t worry about it.

Diabetics eat sugar, and people with heart disease eat greasy food.  People slip up, we are human.  Accept this.  Acknowledge this. Forgive yourself.  Fix it. Move on.

Next year, you’ll know better.  Next year, you will be telling your family member how to look out for the early warning signs of seasonal depression.

And hey – I am proud of you, because you are going to rock this mother fucking season change like no one’s business!

-M