As people with Bipolar Disorder we’re no strangers to all of the ups and downs that it brings. It can be exhausting. But every so often comes a truly momentous breakdown. One that leaves us in ruins. This happened to me about two and a half years ago, it stretched out over about a year before finally coming to a screeching halt. I fell in a heap. A pathetic heap.
For two and a half years I’ve been in and out of psychiatric hospitals. It’s been eighteen months since I’ve been able to work, I’m now on disability. I feel pathetic. I feel useless. My husband works and I feel useless. I’m a terrible wife, daughter, friend.
I know that I’m not capable of working, my therapist knows that I’m not capable of working, as does my doctor and my employment worker. I frequently have anxiety attacks about working certain types of jobs. They all know that I am deserving of being on disability. But I still feel like a useless pathetic piece of crap. It’s hard not to. I used to be capable of so much, I had the world at my fingertips and it was all taken away from me. Okay, so I was manic but what’s the difference.
My therapist said that it is just going to take time, maybe a lot of time but I will get there eventually. My doctor says the same thing. So does my employment worker. So, I guess what I learnt from this is, if you’re going to have a nervous breakdown make sure that you have a lot of spare time on your hands, preferably a few spare years to recover from it.