Getting Stubborn (or Manic?)
Last night I watched the movie Brittany Runs a Marathon (On Amazon Prime). It was quite good, and dealt with a lot of things that are very relatable to me. Feeling worthless due to weight/appearance. Struggling to be/feel accepted. Assuming people think the worst of you because you feel so worthless, so how could they think anything but?
Not happy stuff, particularly for me because I'm in the midst of dealing with all that crap, learning to overcome it through therapy. My weight is a huge issue that I've mostly been ignoring since the pandemic hit. I mean, what better excuse to stick my head in the sand than this weird time when you're supposed to hide away in your home where no one can see you or judge you, right?
I watched this at the end of a long weekend that I really didn't enjoy, because I was just exhausted. My brain wanted to do things, something, anything. But my body was just too tired to get up off the couch. I did go for a drive Sunday night, because the restlessness became too much to bear - I just got dressed, got in the car, and drove listening to podcasts for about an hour and a half. And I felt much better when I got home. A little bell when off in my head that night, but I didn't really put it together. Not till I watched that movie and it triggered all the bad feelings I keep tucked away safely just under the surface.
Before I watched it, I had gotten on the treadmill for the first time in ages. Prior to lockdown, I'd gotten a modicum of activity in just by going out to the store every day or every other day. Even if I only needed one or two things, I'd walk all around the store, and that was kind of my exercise. Not very good exercise, but it kept my body from getting stiff and sore - which is exactly what's happened since the pandemic hit. I hurt, all over, and moving is a chore. So after how much better I felt getting out of the house, I figured I'd try getting some exercise - so much better for me than driving, and I have a treadmill right in my dining room. No excuses! I walked for 5 minutes. At 3 minutes, my legs started to ache, and at 4 minutes my hip started to hurt. 5 minutes is my limit right now, given the current condition of my body. I felt good that I had done it, proud of myself. It was okay that I only did a little, because I've been sitting still for so long - better to start slow than to try to push too far and injure myself. And at this point, let's face it, any exercise is beneficial to me. I did it! I started!!
Then I watched the movie, and all those feelings that I related to so strongly came to the surface and I sat here berating myself for not doing more, for the months of inactivity, for all the junk food I've eaten over the past few months, for being lazy, for being worthless, for whining about being fat instead of getting up and doing something about it years ago, for struggling. For being who I am. Essentially, for existing.
I talked myself down from it, of course. I've gotten good at that over the years. I turned my thoughts right back around to the positive, healthy, proud thoughts I'd had right after I walked. I'm fine, I'm not wallowing in it. It just sucks that it's all still there, y'know? It sucks that I have to go through that practically every time I do something good for myself. No wonder I'm exhausted all the time.
I woke up this morning in a positive mindset. A little frustrated and angry at that negative part of myself (she's such a bitch!) but overall in a good mood, ready to take on the day! I got on the treadmill for another 5 minutes before starting work, did some organizing that I've been putting off when work didn't really have anything for me to do, and did ANOTHER 5 minutes of walking after lunch! Woohoo! I'm rocking this! I'm motivated! I've got my stubborn on, and I'm going to beat this depression/anxiety/low self-worth thing that's been keeping me down! Go go go!!
*record scratch*
I've been here before. I've been injected with all the motivation in the world before, all the determination and stubbornness - and I've made progress! I've felt good for months on end, watched the pounds fall off, been on top of the world. And then suddenly it all -- just stops. It goes away. I sink back down to where I was, or lower, and all my progress recedes back into the ocean of my self-hatred.
I don't want that. I want to hang on to this feeling forever.
My therapist and I have been discussing the possibility that I may have bipolar type II disorder, and it's things like this that make me feel like it fits, far more than depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder. (I wasn't going to share this with anyone but those closest to me, but then I realized - fuck that, it's the stigma that makes me want to hide it, and talking about it is the only way to remove that stigma, so I'm not doing myself or anyone else any favors by keeping it to myself, so - boom - yeah, I might have a bipolar disorder. And for anyone who doesn't know, type II involves hypomanic episodes, as opposed to the manic episodes you see depicted in media - essentially hypomania being just what I've described above - hightened energy and mood)
So I'm now wondering - is this a hypomanic episode? Is that what all the other times I've done this have been?
I can hear you thinking (and I'm thinking it, too!) "But Jen, you're just feeling good! This is how you're supposed to feel!"
While I'd love to feel this way all the time, there's something... not quite right about it. I'm not sure how to explain it, other than it just came on too quickly. It's like a switch has been flipped. Nothing has changed except my mood. I obviously haven't changed my thought patterns, I'm still struggling to keep my negative brain at bay. It almost doesn't feel real.
It's like when you get drunk or high - you feel great, but you know it's not real. You know it's an artificial, substance-induced feeling, and when you sober up or come down, you'll feel like you did before. There's nothing about the feeling itself that feels unreal, you just know that it's not. You know it's temporary.
It's kind of crappy waiting for the other shoe to drop.
BUT
I'm going to use what energy I have while I have it. And when it goes away, I'm going to try my hardest to cling to the stubborness inside me that is confident I can do this - that I can exercise and get healthy, that I can work through my mental health issues and get to a place where I'm okay, where I'm not fighting constantly.
So for now, I'm going to be Brittany, stepping out that door despite her fears, and running to the end of the block.
Okay, that's not Brittany, and it certainly won't be me because I'm pretty sure I'll never be a runner, but this post really needed some pretty!
Anyway - fuck my fucked up brain, I'm going to do this anyway. 5 minutes at a time if I have to. Fuck the people in my past who've told me I can't. FUCK them. I can, and I will. I will make myself healthy and happy.
Not happy stuff, particularly for me because I'm in the midst of dealing with all that crap, learning to overcome it through therapy. My weight is a huge issue that I've mostly been ignoring since the pandemic hit. I mean, what better excuse to stick my head in the sand than this weird time when you're supposed to hide away in your home where no one can see you or judge you, right?
I watched this at the end of a long weekend that I really didn't enjoy, because I was just exhausted. My brain wanted to do things, something, anything. But my body was just too tired to get up off the couch. I did go for a drive Sunday night, because the restlessness became too much to bear - I just got dressed, got in the car, and drove listening to podcasts for about an hour and a half. And I felt much better when I got home. A little bell when off in my head that night, but I didn't really put it together. Not till I watched that movie and it triggered all the bad feelings I keep tucked away safely just under the surface.
Before I watched it, I had gotten on the treadmill for the first time in ages. Prior to lockdown, I'd gotten a modicum of activity in just by going out to the store every day or every other day. Even if I only needed one or two things, I'd walk all around the store, and that was kind of my exercise. Not very good exercise, but it kept my body from getting stiff and sore - which is exactly what's happened since the pandemic hit. I hurt, all over, and moving is a chore. So after how much better I felt getting out of the house, I figured I'd try getting some exercise - so much better for me than driving, and I have a treadmill right in my dining room. No excuses! I walked for 5 minutes. At 3 minutes, my legs started to ache, and at 4 minutes my hip started to hurt. 5 minutes is my limit right now, given the current condition of my body. I felt good that I had done it, proud of myself. It was okay that I only did a little, because I've been sitting still for so long - better to start slow than to try to push too far and injure myself. And at this point, let's face it, any exercise is beneficial to me. I did it! I started!!
Then I watched the movie, and all those feelings that I related to so strongly came to the surface and I sat here berating myself for not doing more, for the months of inactivity, for all the junk food I've eaten over the past few months, for being lazy, for being worthless, for whining about being fat instead of getting up and doing something about it years ago, for struggling. For being who I am. Essentially, for existing.
I talked myself down from it, of course. I've gotten good at that over the years. I turned my thoughts right back around to the positive, healthy, proud thoughts I'd had right after I walked. I'm fine, I'm not wallowing in it. It just sucks that it's all still there, y'know? It sucks that I have to go through that practically every time I do something good for myself. No wonder I'm exhausted all the time.
I woke up this morning in a positive mindset. A little frustrated and angry at that negative part of myself (she's such a bitch!) but overall in a good mood, ready to take on the day! I got on the treadmill for another 5 minutes before starting work, did some organizing that I've been putting off when work didn't really have anything for me to do, and did ANOTHER 5 minutes of walking after lunch! Woohoo! I'm rocking this! I'm motivated! I've got my stubborn on, and I'm going to beat this depression/anxiety/low self-worth thing that's been keeping me down! Go go go!!
*record scratch*
I've been here before. I've been injected with all the motivation in the world before, all the determination and stubbornness - and I've made progress! I've felt good for months on end, watched the pounds fall off, been on top of the world. And then suddenly it all -- just stops. It goes away. I sink back down to where I was, or lower, and all my progress recedes back into the ocean of my self-hatred.
I don't want that. I want to hang on to this feeling forever.
My therapist and I have been discussing the possibility that I may have bipolar type II disorder, and it's things like this that make me feel like it fits, far more than depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder. (I wasn't going to share this with anyone but those closest to me, but then I realized - fuck that, it's the stigma that makes me want to hide it, and talking about it is the only way to remove that stigma, so I'm not doing myself or anyone else any favors by keeping it to myself, so - boom - yeah, I might have a bipolar disorder. And for anyone who doesn't know, type II involves hypomanic episodes, as opposed to the manic episodes you see depicted in media - essentially hypomania being just what I've described above - hightened energy and mood)
So I'm now wondering - is this a hypomanic episode? Is that what all the other times I've done this have been?
I can hear you thinking (and I'm thinking it, too!) "But Jen, you're just feeling good! This is how you're supposed to feel!"
While I'd love to feel this way all the time, there's something... not quite right about it. I'm not sure how to explain it, other than it just came on too quickly. It's like a switch has been flipped. Nothing has changed except my mood. I obviously haven't changed my thought patterns, I'm still struggling to keep my negative brain at bay. It almost doesn't feel real.
It's like when you get drunk or high - you feel great, but you know it's not real. You know it's an artificial, substance-induced feeling, and when you sober up or come down, you'll feel like you did before. There's nothing about the feeling itself that feels unreal, you just know that it's not. You know it's temporary.
It's kind of crappy waiting for the other shoe to drop.
BUT
I'm going to use what energy I have while I have it. And when it goes away, I'm going to try my hardest to cling to the stubborness inside me that is confident I can do this - that I can exercise and get healthy, that I can work through my mental health issues and get to a place where I'm okay, where I'm not fighting constantly.
So for now, I'm going to be Brittany, stepping out that door despite her fears, and running to the end of the block.
Okay, that's not Brittany, and it certainly won't be me because I'm pretty sure I'll never be a runner, but this post really needed some pretty!
Anyway - fuck my fucked up brain, I'm going to do this anyway. 5 minutes at a time if I have to. Fuck the people in my past who've told me I can't. FUCK them. I can, and I will. I will make myself healthy and happy.
-
determined
high
weird
okay
excited