My Best Depression Ever

Depression sucks, but this one sucks less

One of the frustrating parts of having bipolar disorder is that there is no cure.

Getting past that statement took me a lot of work. My sense of normal is different. Sure, medication helps. But it doesn’t stop the cycles. It brings my highs and my lows closer to a range that most people (read: neurotypical) experience, which means they are less challenging (though still not easy) to handle.

For me, getting my diagnosis took my experiences from moral failure to situation to manage.

It takes away the self-recrimination and shame.

The deeper I get into my diagnosis, the better I am able to manage challenging symptoms. I still struggle, but I struggle with purpose now, not surrender.
I saw this latest depression coming on. I watched it appear in horror over the course of three days, as symptoms presented themselves. I am helpless to stop it.

I forget every time how much depression sucks. The vulnerability I feel. The weakness. How much harder everything becomes. The exhaustion that pops up every two hours; I sleep more than I’m awake. I forget the crying jags that appear out of nowhere.

Medication helps. But it doesn’t stop the cycles.