I haven't written for a while. It isn't that I've ignored writing or have been avoiding it, but I have been unable to pen anything worthy. This last month has actually been a fairly good one, mentally; and I have an easier time composing when I have issues to vent. Finals were seriously stressful, as to be expected, but I had a pleasant vacation with my wife and then another to California with my daughter. The next semester starts next week and I fully expect the stress to start taking hold again.
Overall this season has been spectacular. Historically I crash during the holiday season, in the dark days of winter. Sooooo, what happened this year? It is probably a combination of a positive bump up in meds and riding off the flow of personal accomplishment in school. This semester I will continue to try and increase my productivity and habits. Ironically, for the first time in, well, months or more I have actually felt bored. My time hasn't been wasted, but in-between tasks I am extremely blase.
In the last month I sat down to write about a single question, again and again. It was a question posed to me by my therapist about why exactly I found so much personal love and acceptance when I was a working professional. I should probably address this, because I have an appointment coming up next week. And that is where I will end this entry, on a cliffhanger for that follow up.
This post first appeared on Somehow Forward - My Struggle With Bipolar Depression And Suicide, please read the originial post: here