I am just having a bad day,

I AM just having a bad day,

I am JUST having a bad day,

I am just HAVING a bad day,

I am just having A bad day,

I am just having a BAD day,

I am just having a bad DAY.


Bad days scare me. I cry and I find myself shaking cause I am terrified I will spiral and get worse again.

I’m jealous of people who don’t have this worry, who for them a bad day is a bad day and they sit and eat chocolate and watch Bridget Jones / the sports / the West Wing or whatever. I wish I was one of those people. One of those people who doesn’t always have to consider their mood, are they being irrational, is their heart beating faster than normal, are they speaking faster, being more impulsive. Are they tired and sleeping all the time, irrationally angry, bursting into tears for no reason, not eating, thinking of hurting themselves. I’m jealous of the “normal” people cause they don’t have to go through my mental checklist throughout the day.

Today I am having a bad day, probably because work was difficult last night and I felt like I did a bad job. Logically I know that it is just a bad day, maybe even a bad moment and that I will be fine later on. This is mostly why I am writing this, because I explain it to people I find myself a little calmer, a little more rational and a little more able to see that I am just tired, I’ve been ill this week and I had a bad day at work. I am not getting ill again.

BUT the (not so little) voice in the back of my head is sat there saying “what if it’s not just one bad day.” Being bipolar totally sucks. Seriously, a lot of the time I am totally accepting of this condition and know that I can live with it and use it to be a better person and help other people. But sometimes, I really REALLY hate it. This bloody illness stops me from having control over my emotions, my state of being, yeah there are things that I can (and do) to gain some control and fight it, but the underlying feelings are still there. And I blooming hate it. Because there is always that (not so little) voice saying “what if it’s not just one bad day.”

I hate it because I don’t just have a bad day. I either have a bad couple of months (and I mean really flipping bad) or I have a day where I am terrified the whole time that I am getting ill again and so struggle to regain the day and make it better.

So writing centres me, it helps me make sense of all the thoughts flying round my head, the anxiety and worry that never goes away. And once I have done this I will go and clean and maybe start knitting Rosy’s beard.

I doing this because I need to remind myself that it is just a bad day, that everyone has bad days, that I am getting better and I will keep getting better, I am a fighter and I wont let this illness ruin the rest of my life.

But I’m still having a bad day, so will someone please come round and bring me chocolate and a copy of the Lion King cause I can’t find mine (maybe that’s why I’m having a bad day.)


2 thoughts on “Days

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