Tasks That Could Soothe Bipolar Disorder Symptoms.

• Frame and display a photo of people who have loved and supported you. Seeing the photo will remind you that you are not alone.
• Play with color. Color a page in a coloring book (for adults or kids), arrange your books by color, or put together a few colorful outfits for coming events.
• Dress to feel empowered. Clothes influence us and others, which is why they can be well worth your time, money, and consideration.
• Take one of your favorite childhood books and read it alone. If you don't own your favorite childhood books, buy them--not for your children but for yourself. 
• Rearrange the blankets on your bed. A smooth bed is so soothing.
• Buy a new book. Invest in your future relaxation and happiness (and get to them as quickly as possible).
• Take a bath. I know that even a 5- or 10-minute bath can reset me.
• Read poems aloud. You don't have to "get" them. Just give your brain something to chew on besides itself.
• Go for a brisk walk. Don't think about weight loss; think about where and how you want to be strong.
• Remove as many small discomforts as possible. Tags in your clothes, underclothes that are too tight, mediocre pillows...They are a big deal. Fix them.
• In every room of your home, be sure something reminds you of what you love. I don't just mean your kids; I mean something connected to your life-sustaining passion. By the way, I think it is wise to have a life-sustaining passion that is not connected to or dependent on one's children. 
• Use sunshine. If you're at home and the sun is out, try to move your activities with the sun. My guest room gets great afternoon light, so I sometimes write or read there in the afternoon.
• Go public (when you're ready). I recently "came out" to most of the people I know--they all know I have bipolar disorder. It's a relief. Those closest to me already knew. But I even extended it to Facebook and made this blog public. I didn't want to hide it if it might help someone.
• Just say, "I love you." Do this for someone who has never heard it from you. Who knows when he or she last heard it at all?

More Time, Please.

I’ve been stable for 3 or 4 more months. I haven’t had much to say on this blog in that time. Instead, I’ve journaled, read several books, worked on my other blog, and bound myself more tightly to those closest to me. Mom said that this was the most stable she’d seen me since Oliver’s birth. 

I’ve also been focused on my son Oliver, who will start attending special education preschool on August 31. Getting to that point involved meetings and so much paperwork; it was like having a job again.

But last night, I felt a sadness that had no object. I was lethargic despite an irritable energy. And today, I began to tremble all over, physically visible only in my hands. Thoughts became difficult to catch.

These are small symptoms and may simply come from normal weariness and anxiety. My child will go to school for the first time. I’ll have to teach myself how to be alone, how to stay active and connected to what matters. 

How will I do that if I’m sick?

I want to read. Scribble. Write down others’ perfect words. See movies. Clean up. Cuddle. Smile involuntarily. 

I’m asking for more time. I want to experience enough peace and contentment that I can remember and reach for them when illness bites into my neck and shakes me hard. 

I’m not asking for a cure—I know it’s not possible, not yet. I’m just asking for more time.