The Bitch Is Back

The depression and paranoia, I mean. I’m not having any suicidal ideation this time, I’m just discouraged and sad and afraid. I’ve looked at numerous options for housing—even temporary would do for now—and there don’t seem to be any that would allow Will and me to keep at least SOME of his Social Security check. That leaves the local shelter, which would mean giving up our dog as well as the cats….my God, will the losses ever stop??

I keep thinking if Will were by himself, he’d probably have better luck…..maybe one of the kids would take him in. He is a much more sympathetic figure than I am: no matter how healthy he looks, he still has cancer, and I don’t think they’d be so callous as to let him spend the winter in the cold. I don’t know where I’d go in that case—probably the shelter—but the one thing that can’t happen to him is living in the car. I’d rather be apart than have him catch pneumonia. He’s already had it once this year, and thankfully it wasn’t serious…..I don’t know that he’d be so fortunate a second time.

Here’s where the paranoia comes in. I can’t help thinking everyone is blaming me for getting us into this mess. I know—this is when I’m supposed to remind myself that my brain is lying to me, and that “everyone” has much more important things to do than worry about whose fault this cluster-fuck is. But let’s face it, it wasn’t Will’s cancer that rendered us unable to continue in our accustomed lifestyle, nor was it his doing that we’re flat broke and desperate. Nope, this one is on me and regardless of the circumstances that led us to this point, I can’t help feeling guilty about it.

Everyone knows that mental disabilities are treated much less compassionately in our society than physical ailments. Unfortunately, even mentally ill people internalize that cultural bias and are often brutal in assessing themselves, when it’s merely a matter of biology and maybe a little maladaptive thinking. (Yeah, I know…..why can’t I figure that out for myself?) But it’s hard to change that thinking when the trajectory of one’s life has gone from being functional and working to unemployed and destitute in less than a year.

Bottom line, I’m depressed and anxious again, and though I keep saying “this, too, shall pass”, there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight. What I am not is suicidal. If I get that way, I’ll call Dr. Awesomesauce and let him figure out what to do about it, but for right now I’m fighting it just fine on my own. It’s OK to be depressed and anxious under the circumstances; in fact, it would probably be more worrisome if I didn’t feel the way I do.

Yes, the bitch is back…..but this time, she’s NOT going to take over. There’s too much to do, too many phone calls to make, too many agencies to visit. And as far as I’m concerned, she can just go to hell.




Published by bpnurse

I'm a retired registered nurse and writer who also happens to be street-rat crazy, if the DSM-IV.....oops, 5---is to be believed. I was diagnosed with bipolar I disorder at the age of 55, and am still sorting through the ashes of the flaming garbage pile that my life had become. Here, I'll share the lumps and bumps of a late-life journey toward sanity.... along with some rants, gripes, sour grapes and good old-fashioned whining from time to time. It's not easy being bipolar in a unipolar world; let's figure it out together.

10 thoughts on “The Bitch Is Back

  1. You sound like you are in fighting form — in a good way. Good time to rally your resources. As I read your post, I couldn’t help but think that a dog and cats make finding a rental far more difficult than a human mate. Best of luck finding a temporary place to stay. I’m rooting for you and Will. Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I don’t know what to say. The social welfare system you describe works so differently than ours over here. I know your landlord wants to sell, I know you’ve been having trouble for a while, but you know what; you’re still here, you’re still fighting and that has to amount to something good. Have you no family that could temporarily house you, until you find something; put your stuff in storage until then, at least till after Christmas? The image of you and Will traipsing around on Christmas eve looking for somewhere to live is so poignant, even to a heathen such as I! Am thinking of you BP.

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  3. I’ll just reiterate what I said to Briana – you have an illness that makes you think you are “the worst,” and it’s just not so. It makes you think these feelings are going to last forever and they won’t. It makes you think everything is wrong with you and your life and that’s not true either. It lies to you. You have to surround yourself with the truth and with people who are going to mirror that back to you. As I said before, you were able to get out of inpatient in a week. One thing they did was tweak your medication. Another thing was change the environment to one of safety so you couldn’t harm yourself, and that helped you relax. Another thing was to change the environment to one that had people who reflected the truth to you, instead of the intrusive and toxic thoughts that were running around your brain. You may not need to go inpatient to effect these changes, but as you are doing, you need to seek those things and change what’s happening to you. You do have a degree of power over those thoughts, but chemistry is a major component of your illness. Like I said, try calling a help line, and they may be able to help you get groups or something that can help you get through this.

    Meanwhile Marla I wonder if there is something to splitting you two up – do your kids live close to each other? Maybe you could live in two places but still see each other?

    Liked by 1 person

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