So on this new chapter of life, I ask the age old question. How do I shake this feeling? I am running out of money this month, my manic behavior took over a little bit and I have been over spending, where I shouldn’t be. Just spent $90 on a manicure! $90 which I didn’t have to begin with, which was embarrassing to split between my credit card and cash.
But I digress. Life is mundane. So meaningless. With the addition of the Day Treatment Program, I have met new friends and have made some changes. But the problems are still there haunting me. Been taking a new approach with the chat scene too. I took my pictures down off of my profile. Been chatting completely anonymous now. What is interesting is that the quality of people are completely different. No one sending me personal messages like “I like your pic” then the conversation ends there. Completely shallow. Completely hollow. People are empty these days. Sure I want to know what the person looks like that I’m chatting to, but is it the basis for speaking to someone? When did that become the requirement? I have my preferences. I prefer white men. But I have chatted to all different cultures from all over the world, why is it that looks are the main focus?
Off topic, I do that. Where were we. Yes Bipolar. Ben Stiller has bipolar. And The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is the quintessence of what we are and what we want to become. Life. Ahhh. What a wonderful thing. It is truly a gift. And as I watch my inbox of the empty messages on my OKCupid profile, and wondering why the fat man I messaged rejected me too, I wonder about people. My soldier, I only see him once every two weeks. I wonder how he is and where life is taking him the times we are apart.
The low. The mundane. The days we don’t want to get out of bed. Hope. It is for us. I hold onto it, because I will never have these days of my youth again. Next month, I will not spend my check on eating out and drinks, but some nutritional foods. My cholesterol is high. My psychiatrist and my doctor have been warning me about it for some time now. I have to be careful. There is heart disease in my family and my 42 year old cousin died of a heart attack and my Dad is a three time heart attack survivor with a whole bunch of metal in his chest.
I have to make some choices. I can’t sit in bed and let it come to me. I am not 24 anymore. I am 34. Ten years. Where did it go? I can’t lay in bed for another 10 years. I can’t. I won’t.
Hmmm. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.