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This is one of the things I wrote in my notebook to add to my WRAP. “When I start to see grey and feel that people are inching away from me (like if you sh!t your pants on the bus kind of inching away,) I can reliably depend on knowing I am entering an episode.” This time I am going to try to hold on. What does that mean? I’m really not sure except that I will attempt to do things differently than I usually do. For instance, I will really make an effort to push myself out of bed even if it takes all day. Today I got myself out of bed and out of my room around 4 pm so I count that as a definite victory. Another win was I text message my friend (even saying that is one more win, I don’t believe that people want to be in the same room as me never mind “like” me,) to tell her that I left my black salt at her house. And then I actually made a plan with her to go to her house and pick it up tonight. Her husband was there (I love both of these people, my depression and mind divergence does not prevent me from loving people. In fact it makes everything I feel horrifyingly painful because I divorce myself from contact especially from the people I love so that I protect them from the offensive thing I become when the daemons inhabit my mind and mess with my perception and play with my luck and intelligence,) and she said I could pick it up while he was home. I asked K- to drive me there (win – I am off and was afraid I’d cry on the way or at least say something incredibly stupid to L while retrieving my black salt.) Things went well. I wished I could have spent more time but knew I would say bad things so I left soon (win/lose – I should have taken the chance, L has seen me lose my sh!t while having panic attacks and anxiety attacks.) 

I did a few chores at home (win win!) And here I am writing a blog entry that may help me deal with the misery of another episode of depression/hypomania. I am suppose to go to Lincoln with my Mom tomorrow so she can get her wig cleaned (don’t laugh – she had cancer – you’ll burn in hell,) and her skates sharpened. (See, the woman probably works out more than you. See how good your body looks when you’re three quarters of a century old you @ss hat.) We might even be able to get a Hartley’s pie. No joy, it’s closed on Mondays say the reviewers.

Well whatever maybe we can go to Ran Zan, a Japanese restaurant. We’ve never been there. Sushi is awesome and if I’m mindful I’ll remember to order the salmon. I took my meds (win.) I even ordered my meds from the pharmacy (win.) I made sure I talked to my Mother about plans to go with her tomorrow (win.) I must get a coffee in the morning so I can marginally operate and maybe even prevent some of the grayness that seeps into my vision and emotions. I also want to write down that I did a passible version of Bhel Puri yesterday at the Goodbye Party. (win.) And they kept my version of Rajma Dal, Dopiaze style afterwards. It made me very happy. Now I need to try to go to bed.

An added comment is what I need to leave. I said deamons. I am not at very embarrassed by the daemon of anger that slams into my brain when I am hypomanic, but the gibbering daemon of abandon that makes me feel needy and like I am physically shrinking into a child mortifies me to no end. No matter how I try to train my mind to believe it’s natural or understandable or even human every fiber within me screams, “KILL IT.” Which of course makes everything worse. I don’t know how to control it when it takes me over. I try very hard to push it back when it lurks in my conscious. That needed to be said. I will probably write ad nauseam about it but if that’s what it takes for me to learn how to manage it that’s what I’ll do.

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