I’ve had such a horrible day. Everything’s gone wrong, as if conspiring against me. At work, computers were down, connections were lost, people were absent and work continued to perplex my confused memory. I plodded along with my mind focused on 4:30pm, like a carrot swaying on a stick.
Traffic was jammed because electricity was out and traffic lights were winking red, red, red, red, red. I sat, car idling, in the middle of the traffic war, listening to Meatloaf’s “I Would Do Anything For Love” and started to cry. I cried all the way home. And I continued crying long after I was home. And to bloody compound the situation, I was making meatloaf for dinner. No lie. So I cried some more.
I am enveloped by sorrow. I feel alone, unloved, unloveable. I have no direction in my life, no achievement. I’m wafting along, alone, living one day at a time. I know in bipolar terms, I’m doing well. Hey, I’m not dead yet! That’s what I mean by ‘doing well’.
But I want more. I want love, companionship, success in the workplace. I want FUN! I want to laugh, not cry. And I don’t even have any chocolate left in the house. Trying to curb comfort eating means I only buy chocolate (double the amount – shhhh don’t tell) on weekends. So in all my glorious moodiness I plopped down on the sofa to watch TV, shifted the blanket to cover my feet aaaaaaand…. uncovered half a bar of chocolate. I LOVE IT WHEN I’M FORGETFUL.