Missing out but it’s fine
Today my Wednesday art class had a video chat lunch together, and I had been looking forward to it since Rafferty first mentioned it a week ago.
But I must have needed a rest day today.
I woke up late, again, and got ready. I washed my face and threw on the tiny bit of makeup I wear anymore. My hands had started shaking by then and I could feel my lunch tumbling restlessly in my stomach.
I couldn’t make myself get dressed. Last year I had pared down the amount of clothes I own so that getting dressed would be less time consuming, but I couldn’t make myself get dressed. I sat on the edge of the bed in my underwear and the t-shirt I had slept in, and struggled to think through what items of clothing I would need in order to be considered presentable.
Finally, I simply grabbed my phone and tapped out a message. I don’t think I can make today after all. I’m sorry!
I got back in bed, my back against the headboard and my Kindle comfortingly on my lap. Then I picked up my phone and began to write this. Yup. That was my day up until now.
Anxiety’s a bitch.
I’ll be fine in a few hours and regretting missing the chance to see my friends.
It’s all okay, though, because I also know that I’ll eventually remember that it’s never been better than now. It’s something I tell myself when the bipolar, hypomania, anxiety – whatever – kicks in. Yeah, having a little phrase to get me through the bad days is cliche, but I don’t care. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, and I’m kinda whatever about it.
I’m already starting to feel okay again. Seeing my friends was a flop but the rest will get better. It’d fucking better.