When I went to therapy the other day, the first thing Karen asked me was “how is your mood?”.  I’m not sure she was prepared for the verbal onslaught that the question brought.

I went a little nuts.

I’m tired of trying to figure out my moods.  Am I hypomanic? Am I depressed? Am I sitting on some kind of baseline?  I don’t know…and what’s more…I don’t really care.

I haven’t written anything for awhile because I’ve been struggling with this.  How do I feel?  I don’t really know.  I feel annoyed, I know that.

But, I came to the decision that I’m not sure it really matters.  Unless I’m raging in mania or floundering in depression…does it really matter what my mood is?  It doesn’t change my life.  Unless, it’s something that affects my meds, does it really matter what my mood is?

I’ve had the freedom to ignore my moods for the most part since my shoulder surgery.  If anyone asks what’s wrong, I just tell them my shoulder hurts.  That explanation is readily, and I think eagerly, accepted.  So much easier than depression or mania or unexplainable anger or frustration.

My diagnosis of Bipolar I is still relatively new.  I’m very much struggling with how to live my life.  It’s not that these problems weren’t here before, it’s that I didn’t really know they were problems.  On some level, sure, but not actively, constantly.  The inability to work is still stumping me at every turn.  Logically, I get it.  But, emotionally…it’s seriously discouraging.

This whole piece feels rambly and disconnected to me, but I gotta get something out there.  I’ve gotta start to get my thoughts back in order.  My shoulder is well enough for me to type now, and I’ve got to get back to getting this business out of my head.