I’m on holiday on the beautiful island of Mallorca…in a wonderful spot, surrounded by beauty. I’m trying really really hard to have a good time and am succeeding at times. But…I just want to escape. Run and run and don’t stop until I find sanctuary..somewhere. I feel the same at home, I feel the same everywhere. I want to escape where I am, I want to escape my life, I want to escape…me.
I’m at the really uncomfortable stage of bipolar II where I am drowned by negative, repetitive, destructive thoughts all the effing time. I’m exhausted by it. And it hurts…constantly. I have to choose my moments to let it out, and then I could cry forever. A hectic month, new stressful job, father having a minor stroke…I know all these things have exacerbated it, but there is no room in the schedule for quiet time to recuperate in the medium or long term. I panic at the thought of it. I know many people with bipolar can’t work, but I want to pay my way. I just don’t know if I can.