The Bipolar Mommy

When it’s Just Too Much

Today was one of those days. This is a cliche spoken by almost everyone at some point, but for me, it takes on a different meaning. Let me rephrase. Today was one of those bipolar days.

I woke up physically aching, contemplating how I was going to get out of bed and make it through the day. I cuddled with my dog for moral support until the hour made it an impossibility to stay in bed any longer. I honestly can’t remember if I took a shower this morning. By the smell of myself, the answer is probably no. I managed to get myself dressed and drive myself to work without incident. After I pulled into the parking space, I took a second to breathe. God, I do not want to go in there. Please don’t make me go in there. I just can’t do it today. It’s too much.

The funny thing is that I can’t really say why I didn’t want to go in. I don’t hate my job. Nothing bad was going to happen today. I just couldn’t face…..life. I sucked it up, and I put on my big girl pants and got out of the car. I put one foot in front of the other and walked into the building, my legs feeling like they were tied down by two ton weights. I gave a half-hearted wave to Amy the receptionist as I walked in the door. I looked at the stairs. I looked at the elevator. Stairs. Elevator. Stairs. Elevator. Elevator it was.

Unfortunately, two students also wanted to join me in the elevator. I needed a few seconds of solitude before officially being “at work.” I felt suffocated. I survived the elevator ride and walked to my office. Did I mention that I share this same office with seven other people? Seven more people to suck the oxygen out of my life. Once I put my things away, it was time to go out into the Writing Lab to work with students. There is nothing more unbearable when you are having a bipolar day than communicating with people. Tutoring students takes this to the next level.

I skulked away to the corner table. Oh God. He looked at me. My colleague was walking over to say hello. Don’t say hello to me. Just let me be invisible. I want to be invisible. Somehow, I managed a few polite pleasantries, and he went away. The trend continued. People can read me and know I am not feeling well. That is what I tell them. I’m not feeling well. They want to know specifics. They always do. Trust me. They don’t.

Luckily, I only had one student who I managed to help. Then, I had a few minutes to myself to draw while I waited for my next victim, I mean student. Gradually, I was coming out of my fog. I was starting to feel semi-human. I managed to interact with people and survive the rest of my day despite having visions of cursing out students or ending up in a mental hospital.

I survived. Sometimes the art in life is that we manage to survive. I survived today. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.