it’s like i was manic and i had such high hopes for my book, for my blog.

“i will get published!” “millions of people will read my blog and be inspired and stop feeling alone!” “i will get speaking engagements and become a nationally-known advocate for bipolar disorder treatment!”

so i wrote. and wrote. and started a blog. and met with agents. and wrote cover letters. and met with more agents.

and nothing really happened.

so i let it go. i gave up. i felt like a failure. and that was it.

but i realized today, in the shower, that it doesn’t have to be all or nothing like this. it doesn’t have to be *wild* success / abject failure. i can come back.

i can start writing again. just a little bit here and there maybe. that’s okay. this isn’t a class or a perfection contest. i can just start writing in my blog again a little. then maybe when i don’t feel so timid i can dip my feet in the water at the edge of my book. i don’t have to dive in and drown. this is all up to me. i have a choice. and i will do this.

i won’t give up

working in tv and movies seems to really fit my hypomanic personality. i fit in and my energy level is perfect. except it wears. wears.

this morning i was having a bit of a rough time though. i was really thinking bad bad suicidal thoughts. even while watching literally dozens of people – good friends – of which i have a lot – post birthday wishes on my wall. but i felt that frightening familiar feeling of depression start creeping in again. scares me.

this time of year is scary. i have to watch it. every year it’s a struggle to make it through spring alive. my dad gave in. i can’t.

i’ve been crazy busy trying to get work for my small business, and just generally running around.

hypomanic? maybe. productive? yes.

well the fact that i’m posting this says a lot. i’m not going to let this fall by the wayside if i can help it.

ive lost 22 pounds from depression (i just went through a breakup, moving out, getting a new car due to being in a wreck – not my fault – among other things).

everyone is saying they’re worried about me and i need to gain weight. but i feel pretty. ugh what is wrong with me?

i weigh 125 and i’m 5’7″

according to the bmi scale that is normal.

and i’m in a new relationship. it’s actually really awesome, and i should know awesome from crap by now.

i’m taking my meds, eating, doing yoga again (finally) and trying to take care of myself. i will not let this illness get the better of me.

when i’m hypomanic, i’m:

• an incredible extrovert
• witty
• funny
• creative
• passionate
• driven
• confident
• sensual
• good in bed
• scratch that – great in bed

but when i’m depressed, all of the above is either terribly muffled, or else completely gone.

my relationships always start when i’m hypomanic. i love everyone, i inspire people, i blow them away with my personality and sexuality. when i’m hypomanic, i’m the ideal woman, the kind you want to marry. hence the reason i’ve been married once and engaged 4 times.

when i’m depressed, i don’t want to have sex, i lose my motivation, i lose most of my confidence. i become the opposite of who i was.

I think I have reverse seasonal affective disorder, if it exists. Fall and winter are when I’m my happiest (and often most manic). Especially during the holidays, I actually love the holidays.

I guess I’m the only bipolar person who does.

Spring and summer are when I’m miserable. I’m really feeling good starting in September (because I know fall is coming) all the way through the new year, but I usually crash with depression on January 1st. I guess it’s because the whirlwind party of Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s is over?

But my depression doesn’t last too long, because my birthday is March 7th, so I have something else to look forward to in March. Maybe I’m also the only bipolar person who likes her birthday?

But the sun and warmth of spring and summer keeps me at a pretty stable level of melancholy.

This morning I woke up and it was thundering and raining. It’s been sunny for a while, but when I saw what it looked like outside (and I especially love when it’s storming) I felt, for the first time in weeks, like actually getting out of bed. But the sun same out pretty soon after, and I got really depressed again.

So I guess I have some kind of reverse seasonal affective disorder or something? I’ve asked doctors and shrinks and no one seems to know what I’m talking about. Apparently it’s really atypical.

And then it makes me wonder – why is my blog called Cloudbusting?

But you know, it’s when you actually bust the clouds that it starts raining (and that’s what the Kate Bush song says) and the rain and storms really make me feel better.

0, if she’s depressed

I’ve started jogging and it’s really been helping my depression… It’s amazing how cheap (free) exercise can be, as an anti-depressant.

By the way, I need to get a photo of the billboard for Mellow Mushroom Pizza I recently saw here in ATL: “Anti-Depressants Without a Prescription.”

Yeah, they’re saying their pizza is an anti-depressant. That is a lame idea for an ad.

I just have to keep reminding myself that people who commit suicide are not brave, they are cowards. They are brave in a way, to be willing to make that commitment and take that risk, knowing they could become a vegetable, lose their face, or succeed and not really have wanted to. But they’re determined and gutsy. I’ll give them that. It’s a quality to be admired. But I guess they’re cowards too, somehow, although right now I cannot for the life of me figure out why.