I’m having trouble leaving the house.

Richard’s band is down from Cape Breton and they are playing a show and I really wanted to go…. but I didn’t know who to ask and the last few times I’ve tried crowds it’s been a disaster so I just stayed home and watched Netflix. More and more things are getting like that. I want to go to the gym but then people are near me and I need to leave. I have a hard time in grocery stores. It’s Nicole’s birthday this weekend and I want to go, she’s one of my best friends, but I don’t know if I’ll make it. I might have to go back to my parents.

I feel really trapped. Doing absolutely nothing is really limiting (how’s that for a sentence?)… I’ve never had this much free time in my life and yet I can’t do anything productive with it. Just sitting here wheels spinning.

I had therapy today… which is nice because it’s on skype so I dont have to leave my house so I actually go to therapy. I like my therapist a lot, but it’s weird; I feel too many things at once and all I have is silence. I’m supposed to do 4 things:

1. Go to a campus library and try to start working on my medical deferrals. Even if I get nothing done I’m supposed to try for a couple hours because eventually natural habits will override the anxiety and I will just get some work done. (Also its midterm season and I love libraries during exam week- I’m abnormal and thrive on other peoples stress.)

2. Stop thinking about things that have to get done anytime further ahead than two weeks from now. (I’ve been supposed to be doing this for like 3 months; it’s not going well.)

3. Put on some fucking sneakers and go outside. (I walked to the grocery store. I wore shitty flats and my feet bled.)

4. Dont kill myself without calling first. (I promise this every week; I’ve only had to invoke it twice so far.)

So.. there’s that. Thats basically all of my life in 4 sentences, if you pick up the ‘stop using cleaning as a coping mechanism’ undertones.

I’m going out for sushi with my mother and sister-in-law tomorrow, because even if all my friends gave up my family is sticking it out with the best of them. I’m not up for public transport (dirt. people. crowds. dirt.) so my mom is driving into get me.

I just. I don’t know. I feel vacant. It’s like I can tell where I used to be but somethings happened. Something fell apart, or asleep and I can’t wake it up. I know things are getting a lot better, reasonably. I’m not pacing or rearranging the kitchen or coming home with $200 worth of tea or looking up statistics of the best ways to kill myself now. I havent stabbed the tips of knives into my skin and spun them around for awhile. I’m allowed to be alone. The bipolar symptoms are over. Now I’m just anxious anxious anxious and that’s going to spiral me right back down to drowning in lakes. I can’t get ahold of things.

One of my old psychiatrists told me I could tell the difference between hypomania and anxiety by the feeling of being run by a machine. The motor means I’m anxious. I feel like I’m powering off a cliff.


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