"When we accept our limits we can rise above them," a wise person said.
I went through years of not having been diagnosed with mental illness and wondered why I kept crashing and burning as far as my ability to live life. Why did I need thise pills again? Why couldn't I just do the things required of me and everyone else that breathed and functioned? I kept trying. I took jobs... started out great guns on projects and it was as if an invisible hand flipped a switch and there went my energy level and concentration. Poof! Gone.
Trips to shrinks felt like I was being proverbially patted on the head and told told to go home and take a Flintstone vitamin. Pick a color... any color. I was frustrated. Just because I didn't see little green people everywhere and believe a space shuttle was coming for me didn't mean I was "fine." How I have come to despise that four letter f-word!
My moods are not severe enough in duration nor intensity to qualify for a bipolar diagnosis, however when it comes to mood-"swings" I own the entire playground. Possibly invented them...
I use humor alot to cope so I apologize if I offend anyone.
These past two months have been a nightmare of busyness. I have been working too much, falling out with my on and off again boyfriend/live in spouse of 5 years, and trying to find a cheaper place to live. Three major changes in progress and you guessed it - this little Cesna crashed. No surprise.
Thankfully, my disability came through and I can now live visibly with my invisible limits. There is no wheelchair for the mind or emotions but I am finally embracing mental illness and all its confines. Like how I cannot work but part time, how I may never be romance material, and may never be wealthy enough to live but in a postage stamp sized dwelling. That is okay. Because I am okay with me. And my limitations.
A Moodscope member.
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